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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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Chap. Copyright No. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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THE ROMANCE 



OF 



SPANISH HISTORY. 



^ 



THE ROMANCE 



OF 



SPANISH HISTORY 



BY 



^ 



JOHN S.'Cr ABBOTT, 



AUTHOR OF 



"THE FRENCH REVOLUTION," "THE HISTORY OF NAPOLEON BONA- 

PARTE," &o., &c. 



IVitl) illustrations. 



NEW YORK: 



<i%^ 






HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,- 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

HARPER & BROTHERS, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Conrt of the United States for the Southern 

District of New York. 



Copyright, 1897, by Sdsan Abbott Mkad. 



PREFACE. 



TF the word Romance necessarily implies fiction, it is 
-*- inappropriately used in the title page of this volume. 
But if it may also imply that which is strange and won- 
derful, though true, then it is appropriately used. It has 
become a common remark that truth is stranger than fic- 
tion. To give a minute narrative of all the important 
events in Spanish history would occupy folio volumes. 
The writer has endeavored to glean, from the many centu- 
ries which have passed away, those well-authenticated in- 
cidents which, in his judgment, would prove most inter- 
esting and instructive to American readers. He is not 
aware that there is any statement in these pages which will 
be called in question by any well-instructed student of His- 
tory. The writer cherishes the hope that this volume may 
aid in luring the eager readers of our land from the present 
engrossing devotion to fiction, to the far more instructive 
and not less romantic incidents of real history. Should 
these pages prove, in that respect, a success, the work may 
be followed by others giving the history of the birth, the 
struggles, the career, of other great kingdoms of the globe. 

John S. C. Abbott. 

Fair Haven, Conu., Sep, 1869, 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 

(From 800 B.C. to 44 B.C.) 

Geography of Spain. — Its Aborigines. — Colonial Settlements. — Its Conquest by 
Carthage. — Designs of Rome upon Spain. — Strife between Rome and Carthage 
for its Possession. — Siege of Saguntum. — Campaigns of the Scipios. — Roman 
Extortion. — Exploits of Viiiatus. — His Assassination. — Achievements of Ser- 
torius. — Campaign of Pompey. — Governorship of Julius Caesar Page 17 

CHAPTER n. 

SPAm, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 

(From 44 B.C. to 673 a.d.) 

The Strife between Pompey and Caesar. — The Victorj' of Caesar. — Spain under the 
Caesars. — The beneficent Reign of Augustus. — Tiberius Caligula, — Kero. — 
The four good Emperors. — Invasion of Spain by northern Barbarians. — Intro- 
duction of Christianity. — Martyrdom. — The Gothic Invasion and Empire. — 
Euric. — Theodoric. — The Crown elective. — The Arians and Trinitarians. — 
Jealousy of the Nobles. — Adoption of the Catholic Faith. — Collection of Wam- 
ba. — Whimsical Letter of Paul 37 

CHAPTER HI. 

THE MOORISH INVASION. 

(From 673 A.D. to 821 a.d.) 

Conflict between Wamba and Paulus. — Reign of Wamba, and his singular Fate. 
— Conspiracy of the Jews. — The Reign of Roderic. — Invasion of the Saracens. 
— Death of Roderic. — Triumph of the Moorish Invasion. — Conflicts of the 
Caliphs. — Damascus against Bagdad. — Civil War in Spain. — Invasion of Gaul 

1^ 



X CONTENTS. 

by the Moors.—Charles Martel, and the Battle of Tours. — Moorish Splendor 
in Cordova. — The Moorish Monarch}^ Page 59 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE CONFLICT BETWEEN THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 

(From 821 A.D. to 1118 A.D.) 

Peril of the Moorish Monarchy. — Growth of the Christian Kingdoms. — Invasion 
of the Norman Pirates. — Death of Mohammed. — Moorish Insurrections. — 
The Reign of Caliphs. — Luxury of the Moorish Monarchs. — Splendors of 
Zarah. — Griefs of Abderaman. — The Challenge. — Battle of Soria. — Scenes 
of Anarchy. — Decline of Moorish Power. — Perfidy of Yussef. — His Conquest 
of Moorish Spain 81 

CHAPTER V. 

SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 

(From II 18 A.D. to 1369 A.D.) 

Contentions of African and Spanish Moors. — The Kingdoms of Castile, Leon, and 
Portugal. — Navarre becomes a Kingdom. — Degeneracy of the Christians. — Il- 
lustrious Moors.— Terrible Battle of Toloza.^ — Cordova wrested from the Moors. 
— The Moorish Kingdom of Granada. — Capture of Seville. — Granada tributa- 
ry to Castile. — General Embroilment. — Illustrative Anecdotes. — Decisive Bat- 
tle of Tarifa. — ^Declension of the Moors. — The Three Peters. — Desolate Con- 
dition of the World 103 

CHAPTER YI. 

CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 

(From 1369 A.D. to 1468 A.D.) 

Gentleness and Cruelty of the Moors. — The Moorish Ladies.— Anecdote. — 
Granada a Fief of Castile. — A Queen besieged. — Independence of the Nobles. 
— Anecdote of the King and the Nobles. — The Kingdom of Aragon. — Its Civil 
Dissensions. — Strange Scene in the Palace.— The Deposition of Henry IV. of 
Castile. — War between Henry and Alfonso. — Griefs of Isabella. — Her Mat- 
rimonial Engagements. — Declared Heir to the Castilian Throne 124 

CHAPTER VII. 

MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 

(From 1468 A.D. to 1481 a.d.) 

Demands for the Hand of Isabella. — Suit of Richard, Duke of Gloucester ; of 
the Duke of Guienne. — Claims of Ferdinand. — Opposition of Henry IV. to 



CONTENTS. Xi 

Ferdinand. — INIarriage witli Ferdinand. — Rivalry of Joanna. — Conflict be- 
tween Isabella and her Brother Henry. — Coronation of Isabella. — Civil 
War. — Ecclesiastical Soldiers. — Career of Alfonso. — Union of Castile and 
Aragon Page 146 

CHAPTER YIII. 

m 

THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 

(From 1483 A.D. to 1492 a.d.) 

The Siege and Capture of Malaga. — Chivalry of Ferdinand. — Desperation of the 
Moors. — Terms of Capitulation. — Doom of the Captives. — Siege of Baza. — 
Influence of the Queen. — Brilliant Pageant. — The Affiance of the Infanta 
Isabella. — The Tournament. — Siege of Granada. — Chivalric Encounters. — 
Santa Fe. — The Fall of Granada. — The Extinction of the Moorish Empire in 
Spain 1G6 

CHAPTER IX. 

CnmSTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

(From 1435 A.D. to 1492 a.d ) 

Birth of Columbus. — Early Life. — Struggles and Disappointments. — His Cause 
adopted by Isabella. — Sailing of the Expedition. — The Voyage. — Mutinous 
Conduct of the Crew. — Land discovered 190 

CHAPTER X. 

'THE NEW WORLD. 

(From 1492 A.D. to 1493 a.d.) 

Land discovered. — Scenery of the New World. — Sail from Island to Island. — 
Disappointment. — The return Voyage. — Landing at Portugal. — Arrival at 
Palos. — Reception by Ferdinand and Isabella 211 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE GLORY AND THE SH^iilE OF THE SPANISH COURT. 

(From 1492 A.D. to 1517 a.d.) 

Efiects of the Inquisition. — Expulsion of the Jews. — Their Sufferings. — Attempt 
to assassinate Ferdinand. — Second Expedition of Columbus. — Intellectual 
Culture of Isabella. — Royal Alliances. — IMarriage of Joanna to Prince 
John. — Death of John. — Death of Isabella, Queen of Portugal. — Death of her 
Son. — Expulsion of the Moors. — Cardinal Ximenes. — His Character and 
Death. , 234 



XU CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XII. 

SUBSEQUENT YOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 

(From 1493 A.D. to 1506 a.d,) 

Columbus and the Egg. — The Destruction of La Navidad. — Exploring Tours. — 
The third Woyage. — Columbus superseded by Bobadilla. — Columbus in 
Chains. — The fourth Voyage. — Wrecked upon the Island of Jamaica. — 
The Eclipse of the Moon. — The Rescue. — Return to Spain. — Death and 
Burial Page 253 



CHAPTER XIII. 

DOHIESTIC SORROWS. 

(From 1500 A.D. to 15 16 a.d.) 

Visit of Philip and Joanna to Spain. — Insanity of Joanna. — Scene in the Court- 
yard of the Castle, — Jealousy of Joanna. — Death of Isabella. — Death of Philip. 
— Marriage of Ferdinand with Germaine. — Sad Fate of Joanna. — Ferdinand's 
Tour to Naples. — Royal Revels. — Death of Ferdinand 272 

CHAPTER XIV. 

CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 

(From 1516 A.D. to 1558 a. d.) 

Reign of Charles V. — Election as Emperor. — His melancholy Temperament. — 
Death of his Mother. — His Abdication. — The Monastery of St. Just. — Cloister 
Life. — The mock Burial. — Death. — Wretchedness of the Nations. — Early Life 
of Philip. — His Marriage with Mar}'- of Portugal. — Death of Mary. — Mar- 
riage with Mary of England. — Joylessness of the bridal Couple. — Nuptial 
Fetes. — Philip summoned to the Abdication 290 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE REIGN OF PHILIP II. 

(From 1558 A.D. to 1568 a.d.) 

Extent of the Empire of Philip II. — Sadness of Queen Mary. — Her Death. — 
Philip solicits the Hand of Queen Elizabeth. — Marries Elizabeth of France. 
— Disappointment of his son, Don Carlos. -♦Death of Hemy I. — The Autode 
FL — Sorrows of Isabella. — Fate of Don Carlos. — The Father accused of the 
Murder of his Son 306 



CONTENTS. Xlll 

CHAPTER XVI. 

PHILIP II., m., AND lY. 

(From 1568 A.D. to 1679 a.d.) 

Death of Isabella.— Anne of Austria. — Oppression of the Morescoes. — Their In- 
surrection.— Horrors of the Conflict. — Don John of Austria. — Anecdotes. — 
Religion and Bigotry. — Character of Philip, — The Escurial. — Death of Philip. 
—Reign of Philip III.— The Regency. —Death of Don John Page 325 

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 

(From 1679 A.D. to 1788 a.d.) 

Claimants for the Crown of Spain. — War of the Succession. — Vicissitudes of 
Battle. — Recognition of Philip V. — Death of Maria Louisa. — Elizabeth 
Farnese. — Abdication of Philip V. — Accession of Louis. — His Bride. — Her 
Wajnvardness. — Death of Philip V. — Accession of Ferdinand VI. — Accession 
of Charles III. — Power of the Jesuits. — Doom of Olivede. — Siege of Gi- 
braltar 344 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

CHARLES IV. AND MARL\ LOUISA. 

(F^om 1788 A.D. to 1808 A.D.) 

Character of Charles IV. and his Wife. — Manuel Godoy. — The Insurrection in 
INIadrid. — Domestic Quarrels. — Forced Abdication of the King. — Appeal to 
Napoleon. — Views of the Emperor. — The Interview at Bayonne. — Testimony 
of Alison ; of Thiers ; of Napier. — The Spanish Bourbons sell the Crown. — 
Remarks of the Emperor 373 

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE EXILE AND RETURN OP THE SPANISH COURT. 

(From 1808 A.D. to 1814 a.d.) 

Life at Valen^ay. — Letter from the Emperor to Talleyrand. — Proclamation to 
the Spanish People. — Interview between the Emperor and Joseph Bona- 
parte. — Restoration of Ferdinand. — Debasement of the Spanish People. — Des- 
potic Measures of Ferdinand. — Birth of Isabella and Louisa,— Death of Fer- 
dinand. — Civil War. — Reign of Isabella II 402 



XIV CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE BEVOLUTION. 

(From 1839 A.D. to 1868 a.d.) 

The Eoyal Family. — Inglorious Reign of Isabella II. — Revolutionary Attempts. 
— Political Parties. — Banishment of the Duke and Duchess of Montpensier. — 
Increasing Discontent. — Retirement of the Court to San Sebastian. — The 
Insurrection. — Flight of the Queen. — The Provisory Government. — Argu- 
ments for the Monarchy. — The Constituent Assembly. — The Vote. — Testi- 
mony of General Dix. — Spirit of the new Constitution. — Difficulties of the 
Patriots. — The Struggles of Humanity: Page 432 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



THE ESCmiiAL '. Frontispiece. 

THE MARTYRDOM OF FRUCTUOSUS, BISHOP OF TARRAGONA Page 45 

THE TRIUMPH OF WAMBA AND HUMILIATION OF PAULUS 62 

THE CHIVALRIC ENCOUNTER 90 

MOORISH H03IAGE TO THE CHRISTIAN QUEEN 130 

QUEEN ISABELLA 151 

THE CORONATION OF ISABELLA 157 

THE LAST SIGH OF THE MOOR 188 

COLUMBUS IN HIS STUDIO 192 

COLUMBUS AT THE DOOR OF THE CONVENT 195 

COLU3IBUS BEFORE THE COaOHSSIONERS 198 

THE L-VNDING 212 

SPANISH CONQUESTS IN AMERICA 216 

ERECTING THE CROSS 224 

THE RETURN VOYAGE.,,.' 228 

COLUMBUS BEFORE FERDINAND AND ISABELLA 232 

COLUMBUS AND THE EGG 254 

THE COLONY DESTROYED 256 

THE SOUTH A3IERICAN COAST 259 

COLUMBUS IN CHAINS 262 

THE ECLIPSE 267 

THE RESCUE 269 

INTERVIEW WITH THE SPANISH PRINCES 398 



/ 



Romance of Spanish History. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 

(From 800 B.C. to 44 B.C.) 

Geography of Spain.— Its Aborigines.— Colonial Settlements.— Its Conquest by 
Carthage.— Designs of Rome upon Spain. — Strife between Rome and Car- 
thage for its Possession.— Siege of Saguntum.— Campaigns of the Scipios.— 
Roman Extortion. — Exploits of Viriatus. — His Assassination — Achievements 
of Sertorius.— Campaign of Pompey.— Governorship of Julius Ca;sar. 

THE Spanish peninsula, separated from France on tlie 
north by the Pyrenees, and bounded on the three re- 
maining sides by the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic 
Ocean, contains an area of 225,600 square miles, being a 
little larger than France. Nature has reared a very formi- 
dable barrier between Spain and France, for the Pyrenees, 
extending in a straight line 250 miles in length, from the 
Bay of Biscay to the Mediterranean, and often rising in 
peaks more than ten thousand feet in height, offer but three 
defiles which carriages can traverse, though there are more 
than a hundred passes which may be surmounted by pedes- 
trians or the sure-footed mule. The soil is fertile ; the cli- 
mate genial and salubrious ; and the face of the country, 
diversified with meadows and mountains, presents, in rare 
combination, the most attractive features both of loveliness 
and sublimity. 

History does not inform us when and how this beautiful 



18 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

peninsula — called Hispania by the Komans — first became in- 
habited. Whether the earliest emigrants crossed the straits 
of Gribraltar from Africa, or came from Asia, coasting the 
shores of the Mediterranean, or descended from France 
through the defiles of the Pyrenees, can now never be 
known. The first glimpse we catch of Spain, through the 
haze of past ages, reveals to us the country inhabited by 
numerous barbaric tribes, fiercely hostile to each other, and 
constantly engaged in bloody wars. The mountain fast- 
nesses were infested with robber bands, and rapine and vio- 
lence everywhere reigned. The weapons grasped by these 
fierce warriors consisted of lances, clubs, and slings, with 
sabres and hatchets, of rude fashion but of keen edge. Their 
food was mainly nuts and roots. Their clothing consisted 
of a single linen garment, girded around the waist ; and a 
a woollen tunic, surmounted by a cloth cap, descended to 
the feet. As in all barbarous nations, the hard work of 
life was performed by the women. 

The names even of most of these tribes have long since 
perished ; a few however have been transmitted to our day, 
such as the Celts, the Gallicians, the Lusitanians, and the 
Iberians. Several ages before the foundations of Rome or of 
Carthage were laid, it is said that the Phoenicians, exploring 
in their commercial tours the shores of the Mediterranean, 
established a mercantile colony at Cadiz. The colonists 
growing rich and strong, extended their dominions and 
founded the cities of Malaga and Cordova. About 800 
years before Christ, a colony from Rhodes settled in the 
Spanish peninsula, and established the city of Rosas. Other 
expeditions, from various parts of Greece, also planted colo- 
nies and engaged in successful traffic with the Spanish na- 
tives. 



THE EAELY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 19 

Four hundred years before Christ, the Carthaginian re- 
public was one of the leading powers, and Carthage was 
one of the most populous and influential cities on the globe. 
The Carthaginians crossed the narrow straits which sepa- 
rate Africa from Spain, landed in great strength upon the 
Spanish peninsula, and, after a short but severe conflict, 
subdued the foreign colonies there, brought the native Span- 
iards into subjection, and established their own supremacy 
over all the southern coast. Cadiz became the central 
point of Carthaginian power, from whence the invaders 
constantly extended their conquests. Though many of the 
interior tribes maintained for a time a sort of rude and fero- 
cious independence, still Carthage gradually assumed do- 
minion over the whole of Spain. 

In the year 235 B.C., Hamilcar, the father of the illus- 
trious Hannibal, compelled nearly all the tribes of Spain 
to acknowledge his sway. For eight years Hamilcar 
waged almost an incessant battle with the Spaniards. Still 
it was merely a military possession which he held of the 
country, and he erected Barcelona and several other fort- 
resses, where his soldiers could bid defiance to assaults, and 
could overawe the surrounding inhabitants. He was a stern 
conqueror, and the subjugated people regarded him with 
dread. In one insurrection, which his severity provoked, 
two-thirds of his army perished, and Hamilcar himself also 
was slain. His son-in-law, Asdrubal, was intrusted with 
the supreme command. 

Asdrubal adopted a conciliatory policy, courting alliance 

with those tribes whom he could not easily vanquish. He 

founded the city of Carthagena, on the gulf to which he 

..gave the same name. He had intended this place for his 

capital, having formed the plan of organizing Spain into a 



20 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

kingdom, independent of Carthage, over which he designed 
to assume the monarchy. 

Eome was now rising rapidly into power, and, with insa- 
tiable lust of conquest, turned her eyes to Spain, wishing to 
wrest the important province from her rival, Carthage. 
Asdrubal, with great energy, was preparing for this ap- 
proaching strife, when he was assassinated by a slave, whose 
master, a native prince, he had put to death. Hannibal 
was now twenty-six years of age, when he succeeded his 
brother-in law in command of the army and as governor 
of Spain. He was a man of heroic mould ; merciless, in 
accordance with the ferocity of the times, but singularly 
sagacious, bold, and self-reliant, and endowed with the rare 
ability of embracing the most extensive combinations, while, 
at the same time, he could attend to the minutest details. 

Hannibal when a child, before his father's death, had tak- 
en a solemn oath never to make peace with the Komans. 
He now, with all his amazing energy, made preparations for 
a death-struggle with Eome, which was then threatening 
the supremac}^ of Carthage everywhere, both on the land 
and on the sea. Eome had entered into alliance with one 
of the powerful Spanish tribes, the Saguntines. Their prin- 
cipal city, Saguntum, was situated upon the Mediterranean, 
on the site of the present city of Murviedro. Hannibal 
commenced his war upon Eome by marching at the head 
of an army 150,000 thousand strong against Saguntum. 
The siege and destruction of this city are described by Livy 
with great graphic skill. 

A According to the narrative of Livy, the besieged made 
the most heroic resistance. The destruction of Saguntum 
is regarded as one of the most sublime and terrible of the, 
tragedies of war. For nine months the storm of battle raged 



THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 21 

incessantly around tlie walls. Every assault was successfully 
repelled. In many fierce sorties the works of the besiegers 
were demolished, and the plain was strewed with the dead. 
On one occasion Hannibal himself was very severely 
wounded. As he effected breaches in the walls with his 
battering-rams, he found other walls reared behind them still 
more substantial, and lapping over the gaps. But Hanni- 
bal was a man whom no disasters could dishearten. Ob- 
stacles only nerved him to greater effort and endurance. 
He reared enormous towers on wheels, and rolled them up 
to the walls, that his men might fight on a level with those 
who defended the ramparts. Thus month after month of 
this truly demoniac strife lingered away, until famine com- 
menced its cruel devastations in the city. The women and 
children perished by thousands. Gaunt and skeleton spec- 
tres stalked through the streets, none having food but those 
for whom it was indispensable to enable them to fight. The 
end now drew nigh. Human endurance could accomplish 
nothing more. There was plenty in the camp of Hannibal, 
and his broken ranks were continually filled up by fresh 
recruits. 

The Saguntines, finding that they must fall, resolved 
with barbaric heroism that their fall should be the sublim- 
est act in the drama ; an act which should fill the world 
with their renown. They accomplished their design. For 
more than two thousand years, the story of the fall of Sa- 
guntum has echoed through the corridors of history. 

In the heart of the city they collected an enormous 
mass of every thing combustible, so that upon the touch 
of the flambeau it would blaze and glow like a furnace. 
Upon this vast pile they placed their wives and their chil- 
dren, and all their valuable effects. 



22 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The fathers, husbands, and brothers capable of bearing 
arms then formed themselves into solid columns, and sud- 
denly rushing from the gates, fell upon the besiegers with 
the utmost fury. No man thought of self-protection, but 
strove only to sell his life as dearly as possible. The slaugh- 
ter was awful. In the midst of the terror, uproar, and tu- 
mult, the torch was applied to the majestic pyre, and it 
flamed, crackling and roaring, to the skies. It was but a 
short agony ere all the writhing victims were consumed to 
ashes. The Carthaginians, having overpowered and cut 
down their desperate assailants, rushed into the city to find 
it but a mass of flame, with scarcely a living inhabitant. 
Mercilessly they destroyed the few stragglers who were 
left in the streets. 

Thus perished Saguntum, one of the most flourishing 
cities of ancient Spain. This event, which occurred in the 
year 219 B.C., ushered in the Second Punic War — a war 
which swept nearly the whole then known world with fire, 
and almost deluged it with blood. The destruction of Sa- 
guntum was a fitting prelude to the scenes which ensued. 
Spain was now a captive in the hands of Carthage ; many 
of the tribes being willingly captive, but others restless 
and struggling to be free. 

The Spanish tribes, who had been hostile to Carthage, 
were indignant that Eome had not sent her legions to aid 
her allies, the SaguntineSj/ The remissness of the Komans 
in this afiair seems inexplicable. They, however, as soon 
as they heard of the fall of Saguntum, prepared to send an 
army into Spain to conquer the country from Carthage. 
Ambassadors were dispatched to visit the disaffected tribes, 
and to incite them to coalition with Rome. But the Span- 
ish chieftains received the ambassadors with great coldness. 



THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 23 

" Are you not ashamed," said an Iberian chief, " to ex- 
pect that we should prefer your friendship to that of the 
Carthaginians? Can we forget your perfidy to the Sagun- 
tines, who perished because you came not to their aid? 
Go seek alHes elsewhere, among those who have not heard 
of the fate of Saguntum." 

The ambassadors could make no reply, and, in confu- 
sion, returned to Kome, having entirely failed in their mis- 
sion. Publius Scipio was then consul at Eome. As Han- 
nibal was marching across the Alps for the invasion of 
Italy, Publius Scipio sent his brother Cnaeus Scipio, a dis- 
tinguished general, with an army to Spain by water. He 
landed at Ampurias, in Catalonia, a little north of the river 
Ebro, with the very inadequate force of 10,000 infantry 
and 700 cavalry. Hannibal had left a Carthaginian gen- 
eral by the name of Hanno in command of the troops in 
Catalonia, though Hasdrubal, the brother of Hannibal, was 
commander-in-chief in Spain. 

Scipio, conscious of his weakness, moved with great 
caution, doing every thing in his power to conciliate the 
natives, and to enlist them on his side. He was extremely 
affable and friendly, complimenting the chiefs upon their 
bravery, and soon he so won their confidence that large 
numbers gathered around his banners. Ere long he was 
in a condition to offer battle to Hanno, and, encountering 
him upon the plains of Catalonia, defeated him with great 
loss. His little fleet also met the Carthaginian fleet near 
the mouth of the Ebro, and sinking a portion of the ships, 
dispersed the rest. Thus the whole of Catalonia and the 
coast from the Ebro to the Pyrenees fell into the hands of 
the Romans. 

These successes were followed by others still more de- 



24 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

cisive. Many of tlie tribes joined tlie conquering Romans, 
The consul, Publius Scipio, soon embarked for Spain with 
large re-enforcements, and joined his brother. By their 
vigorous co-operation nearly the whole peninsula was soon 
wrested from the Carthaginians, and Spain became a Ro- 
man province. A few fortresses only still held at bay the 
legions of Scipio. But Hasdrubal possessed many of the 
qualities of his heroic brother Hannibal. He gathered re- 
enforcements from Carthage, formed alliance with several 
tribes, and wretched Spain became the bloody battle-field 
where Rome and Carthage struggled for the supremacy of 
the world. The fortunes of war as usual ebbed and flowed 
on many a hard-fought field ; now the banners of the one 
party, and again those of the other, floating amidst the 
huzzahs of victory. At length, in two terrible battles, 
both Publius and Cnaeus Scipio were slain, and the Roman 
army was nearly exterminated. 

The Carthaginians, flushed with victory, approached 
the fortified camp where the remnants of the Roman le- 
gions were entrenched. Their escape was hopeless, and 
their doom seemed sealed. A Roman general, Lucius 
Martins, by an earnest harangue roused the soldiers to the 
bold resolve to avenge the death of the Scipios, and to sell 
their lives as dearly as possible. At midnight he led his 
whole band, who were inspired with the energies of de- 
spair, into the Carthaginian camp, bursting the barriers 
with shrieks and fury as of incarnate fiends. The Cartha- 
ginians were totally unprepared for such an attack, not 
dreaming that their crushed foes would dare to leave their 
ramparts. 

Every Roman had his especial duty assigned him ; some 
fired the tents; some plunged into them with sword and 



THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 26 

battle-axe ; some guarded the avenues to cut off the fugi- 
tives. The flames, the clamor, the butchery, the utter be- 
wilderment of the Carthaginians, the heroic efforts of the 
Romans, the gloom of night illumined by the lurid flames 
of the conflagration, presented a scene of horror which can 
not be conceived. The massacre was awful, and before the 
morning dawned nearly the whole Carthaginian army was 
destroyed. All who were not slain were dispersed in wild 
disorder, leaving the whole Carthaginian camp in the hands 
of those whom, the evening before, the Carthaginians had 
regarded but as victims awaiting their execution. 

The Roman Senate, animated by this astonishing achieve- 
ment, immediately dispatched a strong armament to Spain 
under the leadership of Pubiius Cornelius Scipio, a son of 
the consul who had recently perished in battle. This 
young man, then but twenty-four years of age, who subse- 
quently obtained the surname of Africanus, in honor of 
his exploits in Africa, had already acquired much celebrity 
in Rome, not only for his heroism, but for the earnest re- 
ligious character which he had remarkably exhibited. 
Being peculiarly endowed with those qualities which at- 
tract the affections as well as the admiration of men, he 
soon became the idol of the army, and many of the Span- 
ish chieftains with enthusiasm espoused his cause. 

But Hasdrubal was not wanting either in energy or sa- 
gacity. He gathered large re-enforcements from Carthage 
and from his Spanish allies, and was soon again in con- 
dition to take the field. Both parties prepared with great 
vigor to submit the possession of Spain to the arbitrament 
of battle. Scipio, upon landing, marched directly upon 
Carthagena, and laid siege to the city. This movement 
was so rapid and unexpected, and the siege was prosecuted 



26 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

with such vigor, that the city was soon compelled to ca- 
pitulate, and all its vast pecuniary and military treasures 
fell into the hands of the conqueror. 

The conduct of Scipio on this occasion has given him 
great and enviable renown. There was among his captives 
a native maiden princess, of marvellous beauty, who at 
sight inspired him with the most passionate attachment. 
But so soon as Scipio learned that she was the affianced 
bride of a young Spanish chieftain, Allucius, he restored 
her to her lover. The parents of the maiden were over- 
joyed, and, in their gratitude, sent Scipio a very large pres- 
ent, as the gift-ransom for their child. Scipio bestowed 
this ransom upon the youthful pair, as the dowry of the 
maiden. Allucius immediately entered the Koman service, 
attached himself enthusiastically to Scipio, and contributed 
very essential aid to his subsequent enterprises. 

The magnanimous victor, instead of making, according 
to the custom of the times, the citizens of Carthagena slaves, 
and sending them to the market to replenish his purse, 
gave them all their liberty, and restored to them their 
property. He did all in his power to alleviate the inevi- 
table horrors of war, and to promote the happiness of the 
vanquished. Such conduct was as politic as it was un- 
paralleled in those dark and cruel days. The fame of his 
clemency spread rapidly, and his popularitj^ daily increased. 
Still the Carthaginians were too strongly established in 
Spain to be easily driven out. Campaign after campaign 
ensued, with all their awful accompaniments of tumult, 
blood, and woe. 

After three campaigns in as many years, which cam- 
paigns extended the devastations of war over nearly the 
whole peninsula, the Romans attained the decisive superi- 



THE EAKLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 27 

ority. Steadily now Scipio advanced in his conquests, 
wresting fortress after fortress from the Carthaginians, un- 
til they were left in possession of Cadiz alone. Finding it 
impossible to hold this city, the Carthaginian troops aban- 
doned it, escaping in their ships, and thus the whole Span- 
ish peninsula was surrendered to Kome. The conquerors 
divided their prize into two provinces, which they called 
Hither and Farther Spain, the Eiver Ebro constituting the 
boundary between them. Each of these domains was in- 
trusted to a Roman governor, who sometimes held the title 
of proconsul, and again that of praetor. Tarragona was 
the capital of Hither Spain. Farther Spain being of larger 
extent, the governor moved about, choosing his place of 
residence according to his pleasure. Such was the condi- 
tion of the Spanish peninsula 200 years B.C. 

Most of the Roman governors were inexorable tyrants, 
who made it the primary object of their administrations to 
wring as much money as possible from the miserable peo- 
ple. Their oppressions and outrages were constantly goad- 
ing the tribes to revolt, which revolts were quelled by cav- 
alry charges and dripping swords. For half a century 
there was seldom a day in which some of the tribes were 
not in open insurrection. Not unfrequently nearly the 
whole peninsula Would be in a blaze of war. Some of the 
mountain tribes, indeed, were never thoroughly subjugated, 
but in their wild retreats maintained a rude independence. 
Occasionally a Roman governor would be ignominiously 
defeated, but then some successor of surpassing energy 
would regain all that his predecessor had lost. War was 
the normal condition of the people ; peace its transient ex- 
ception. 

The Roman Government was thoroughly detested by 



28 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

the Spanish people; and if the tribes had possessed suffi- 
cient intelligence and virtue to combine, the invaders might 
easily have been driven from the land. But the Eomans, 
with superior sagacity, ever succeeded in fomenting the 
jealousy of the tribes, and thus, by arraying them against 
each other, held them all in subjection. ^The enormities 
perpetrated by these Eoman governors in Spain can never 
be described. Let but one be mentioned in illustration of 
many. A Eoman army was marching along the banks of 
the Tagus, on an expedition of conquest and plunder. A 
deputation from several tribes waited upon Lucullus, the 
proconsul in command of the army, offering to submit to 
Eome on certain terms which they proposed. Lucullus 
received them with apparent cordiality, and, with strong 
expressions of sympathy for the hardships to which they 
were exposed, said : 

" Come to us, and we will conduct you to happier homes. 
We have, in Italy, abundance of uncultivated land, very 
fertile, beneath bright and sunny skies. There you can 
live almost without labor, and your lives will glide along 
like a cloudless summer day. Come in as large numbers 
as you please, and we will conduct you safely to those new 
homes, will provide farms for you all, and I will be your 
father." 

The poor mountaineers, rendered wretched by war and 
anarchy, were delighted with these cheering prospects. 
Thirty thousand of them were soon assembled in the Eo- 
man camp. Lucullus received them with great cordiality, 
and divided them into three bands, as he alleged, in prepa- 
ration for their march. He relieved them of their arms, 
which he said would be only an encumbrance to them on 
their way. Then, when they were disarmed and helpless, 



THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 29 

he fell fiercely upon them with his prepared legions, and 
ten thousand were speedily slain. The remaining twenty 
thousand were bound, and driven off into Gaul, where 
they were sold as slaves. Lucullus was now prepared 
to return to Kome, enriched by the spoil which he had 
thus amassed. 

A few escaped the massacre and the captivity. Among 
them was a man by the name of Yiriatus, who subsequent- 
ly performed exploits which have given given him world- 
wide renown. Fleeing to the mountains, he soon gathered 
around him a bold band of Lusitanians, who acknowledged 
him as their leader. With an eagle eye he watched the in- 
vaders, and not a magazine could be left unguarded or a de- 
tachment leave the Eoman camp, but his heroic band was 
urged to the assault with the speed of the whirlwind and 
the destructive energies of the thunderbolt. Totally disre- 
garding for himself the wealth he thus acquired, he distrib- 
uted it to his impoverished countrymen, to whom he was 
a most bountiful benefactor. Incessantly harassing the 
Romans wherever they presented the slightest exposure, 
when assailed by a superior force he retired to the mount- 
ain fastnesses. 

His wonderful achievements spread his name far and 
wide, and his followers so rapidly increased that soon sev- 
eral powerful tribes were rallied around him as their chief- 
tain. From the cloud-enveloped cliffs his well-trained bands 
were ever descending, like the mountain storm, upon the 
plains of Lusitania. More than once he braved the veteran 
legions of Rome in a pitched battle, and vanquished them. 
The energies of the provincial governments of both Hither 
and Farther Spain were combined to crush this insurgent 
chief Yiriatus met their united armies on the banks of 



30 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

the Tagiis, and they were scattered before the impetuous 
charges of his horsemen. 

Passing from victory to victory, the heroic conqueror 
was soon in possession of one-half of the peninsula, and 
Eome herself was alarmed lest Spain should be wrested 
from her. The Senate consequently dispatched the consul, 
Quintus Fabius Maximus, at the head of 17,000 troops, to 
combine with the broken legions in Spain and overwhelm 
their bold assailant. For twelve months he did not ven- 
ture to meet the Spanish chieftain on the field, waiting for 
his forces to acquire the discipline and the endurance of 
veterans. At length the opposing hosts met again and 
again in the shock of war. Roman diplomacy succeeded 
in detaching several tribes from the ranks of Yiriatus, and 
he was compelled to retreat to the mountains. The Ro- 
mans eagerly and incautiously pursued. Yiriatus turned 
upon them, and routed them with terrible slaughter. The 
war had now proved so destructive to the Roman arms, and 
the prospect of success seemed so remote, that the Romans 
proposed terms of peace, to which Yiriatus acceded. 

But Rome, with characteristic treachery, after ratifying 
this solemn treaty sent Caepio as proconsul to Farther Spain, 
with secret orders to take advantage of the defenselessness 
of Yiriatus, who, unsuspicious of treachery, had dismissed 
most of his forces. Caepio, watching his opportunity, and 
having lured Yiriatus into a trap, as he supposed, fell fierce- 
ly upon the heroic little band he had surrounded. But 
Yiriatus, eluding his foe, escaped into Castile, where he soon 
rallied another army. With characteristic magnanimity, he 
sent three ambassadors to the camp of Caepio to inquire 
the reasons for an aggression apparently so perfidious. 
Caepio, by the proffer of immense rewards, bribed these bar- 



THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 31 

baric messengers to assassinate their chief. On their re- 
turn they stole into his tent when he was asleep, and plunged 
their sw©rds into his bosom. The murderers lost their re- 
ward ; for Csepio doubled his infamy by refusing to pay the 
thirty pieces of silver, through the promise of which he had 
incited them to their Judas-like treachery. 

For eleven years this heroic chieftain had held at bay 
the legions of Eome^ His enemies stigmatize him as a 
rebel and a robberrHe was neither. He owed Eome no 
allegiance ; but, with exalted patriotism, he struggled to de- 
liver his country from remorseless plunderers. Even his 
most bitter foes can not withhold their tribute of admira- 
tion for his heroism, his genius, his magnanimity, the tem- 
perance of his habits and the purity of his life. But the 
death of Yiriatus did not terminate the war. His follow- 
ers, exasperated by the treachery which had deprived them 
of their chieftain, chose a new leader, and the conflict was 
prosecuted with renewed bitterness, and with the usual 
vicissitudes of victories and defeats. Cities were besieged, 
and taken by storm. The tempest of war swept shrieking 
over extended plains, and many battle-fields were drenched 
with blood. Campaign succeeded campaign, as Eomans 
and Spaniards, in the deadly strife, devastated the fair land 
with smouldering ruins, famine, and woe. 

Kumantia, in the north-east corner of Old Castile, on the 
River Douro, where Soira now stands, was the stronghold of 
the Spanish patriots. The Romans resolved to destroy the 
city, and invested it with an army 60,000 strong. The fort- 
ress was garrisoned by but 6000 Spaniards. The Romans 
constructed wall against wall, and bastion against bastion, 
resolved, by a strict blockade, to avoid all the risks of bat- 
tle, and to subdue their foes by the simple yet terrible ener- 



32 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

gies of famine. The Roman consul, Scipio Emilianus, a 
son of the renowned Scipio Africanus, conducted the siege. 
He had already attained celebrity in his wars in Africa 
against Carthage, which city was now entirely demolished. 
As months passed away, during which the beleaguered 
garrison made many but unavailing sorties, every thing 
which by any possibility could be eaten was consumed. 
Famine was now slaying its thousands, and there was no 
alternative for the survivors but to die, or to surrender 
themselves to slavery ; a doom worse than death. The in- 
domitable Spaniards scorned to capitulate. The account 
which the ancient historians unite in giving of the scene 
which ensued seems absolutely incredible. And yet we 
have no light but such as they give to guide us, and their 
narrative is apparently well authenticated. 
,^-»'" According to these accounts, the indomitable inhabit- 
ants of ISTumidia resolved upon mutual and entire exter- 
mination. Deliberately and determinedly they entered 
upon this enterprise. Husbands killed their wives; par- 
ents their children. Some fell upon their own swords. 
Some solicited friends to perform the kind act of death. 
Some set fire to their houses and perished in the flames. 
Thus every individual in Numidia was slain. Not a solitary 
inhabitant survived. And when the Eomans clambered 
over the walls, they found a smouldering city without a 
living being in its streets. Not a captive remained to grace 
their triumph. Not a gem could be found for the Roman 
coronet. Life and wealth had been consumed together. 

If this narrative be true, it is the most extraordinary 
event in the annals of war. The fall of Saguntum was aw- 
ful. But the fall of Numantia stands without a parallel as 
the most energetic act of desperation time has witnessed. 



THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 33 

This tragic event took place 132 years B.C. The destruction 
of Numantia paralyzed the energies of the Spanish patriots, 
and two-thirds of the peninsula despairingly submitted to 
the Roman sway. Nearly all the tribes tremblingly sent 
deputations to implore the clemency of the conqueror. 
A few of the mountain clans, in their inaccessible retreats, 
who, in their poverty, were not worth the trouble of con- 
quering, remained in independence. But still the extor- 
tions of the Romans were continually goading the enslaved 
people to insurrection ; and the peace ol Spain was only 
that peace to which the plantation slaves submit when 
crouching beneath the uplifted lash. Rapacity, lust, cruel- 
ty ever marked Roman domination in Spain. For half a 
century from this time the whole peninsula continued to 
exhibit the same unvarying picture of abject bondage. Oc- 
casionally, goaded to desperation, the victim would turn 
upon his oppressor but to be smitten with a mailed hand 
in bloody death. 

In the year 81 B.C. the merciless dictator Sylla was at 
the height of his power in Rome. Among the innumera- 
ble victims on his proscription list, there was an illustrious 
general by the name of Quintus Sertorius. He was then 
in the prime of life, and was endowed with great physical 
energy and mental vigor. As a leader of armies he had 
no superior ; and his ambition was as boundless and un- 
scrupulous as was that of Sylla, before the terror of whose 
arm he had been compelled to flee. 

Sertorius, in his flight, succeeded in reaching Spain. 
The natives, ever eager for an opportunity to rise against 
their oppressors, encouraged by his military renown and his 
inextinguishable hatred of the Roman usurper, rallied 
around him. He soon found himself at the head of 9000 

2-^ 



34 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

troops, ripe for any enterprise, no matter how desperate. 
But the Komans, to hold the restless Spaniards in subjec- 
tion, had four armies in the field, amounting, all together, to 
120,000 men. With amazing energy and military skill, Ser- 
torius baffled his foes and multiplied his victories, until he 
united the two powerful tribes — nations they were then- 
called the Lusitanians and Celtiberians, into one central re- 
public. Giving them a government exactly similar to that 
of Eome, he advanced in such a career of conquest, and of 
accumulating resources, that Spain seemed upon the eve of 
being rescued entirely from its foreign oppressors. 

He established two capitals, Evora, in the heart of Lu- 
sitania, and Osca, now Huesca, in Celtiberia. Both of these 
capitals were embellished with» the noblest works of art. 
A Senate, consisting of 300 of the most distinguished citi- 
zens, most of them Komans by birth, administered the gen- 
eral affairs of the nation. The army was organized upon 
the Koman model. There was a university established at 
Huesca, to which Sertorius invited distinguished Latin and 
Greek professors, and which attained very considerable re- 
nown, attracting students from all parts of the peninsula. 
Industry, in all its branches, was encouraged. Arms were 
manufactured, arsenals reared, mines opened, and the hour 
of Eoman expulsion and of Spanish disenthrallment seemed 
to be at hand. 

The imperious Sylla, alarmed at the strength rebellion 
was assuming in Spain, dispatched the consul Metellus Pius, 
at the head of several Koman legions, to crush the auda- 
cious foe. Sertorius hurled upon them his exultant troops, 
and trampled them in the dust. Sylla died miserably, and 
went to the bar of God with the blood upon his soul of 
one hundred thousand men whom he had sent to the scaf- 



THE EARLY HISTORY OF SPAIN. 35 

fold. The Eoraan Senate, conscious that the emergency of 
Spanish affairs demanded the most decisive action, sent to 
the peninsula several veteran legions, under Cnaeus Pompey, 
a young general whose star was just beginning to rise, 
lurid and gleaming, over a war-scathed and smouldering 
world. The storm of battle now swept Spain with terrible 
devastation. When Pompey and Sertorius crossed swords, 
then the mightiest energies of the demon of war were 
called into requisition. There were many fierce and san- 
guinary battles, in which both parties struck their swiftest 
and heaviest blows, and then rested from the conflict, bleed- 
ing, panting, and equally exhausted. Kome poured in her 
re-enforcements to replenish the thinned ranks of Pompey. 
But with equal ardor the Spanish tribes contributed their 
recruits to strengthen the diminished battalions of Sertorius. 

At one time the Spanish forces were so pressed by the 
Eoman legions marching upon them in overwhelming mass- 
es, that they could not even hope for a successful encounter. 
Sertorius dispersed his army, at a given signal, through a 
hundred diverse paths, leaving the foe utterly bewildered 
by their sudden vanishment. In a few days they were all 
re-assembled j with recruited strength, at an appointed ren- 
dezvous. Eome now offered an immense reward for the 
head of Sertorius, hoping thus to secure his assassination 
by some of his followers. Perpenna, one of the generals 
of Sertorius, entered into a conspiracy to overthrow the 
illustrious chieftain, not for the sake of the offered reward, 
but to obtain the supreme command. At a convivial sup- 
per in celebration of a victory, Sertorius fell, pierced to the 
heart by a dozen poniards. 

Perpenna attained his object, and was recognized as the 
leader of the army. But in his first battle the genius of 



36 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Pompey triumplied over him ; his troops were slain or dis- 
persed, and he was taken captive. The wretch sought to 
purchase pardon by acts of the utmost perfidy and mean- 
ness. Pompey, despising him, sent him to the scaffold. 
With the death of Sertorius, the last glimmer of Spanish 
independence expired ; but his memory was cherished by 
the natives with undying love. The genius of Pompey 
now dominated over Spain. Most of the tribes submit- 
ted to the conqueror, and as he swept his armies from An- 
dalusia to the Pyrenees, he found no occasion to draw his 
sword. Thus Spain, in the year 72 B.C., became again 
subject to Rome ; and the tranquillity of the vanquished 
people for twenty years was disturbed but by occasional 
and partial insurrections, which were promptly crushed, 

Swith merciless severity, 
'ompey, from this successful expedition, returned to 
•e, and for a time Julius Csesar, a young man whose 
fame was rapidly rising, and who married a daughter of 
Pompey, was intrusted with the governorship of Spain. 
Though the tremendous energy of C^sar overawed all op- 
position, still, as he espoused the popular cause, in opposi- 
tion to the aristocracy, he was decidedly a favorite with 
the masses. By his military prowess, and his wonderful 
administrative skill, he obtained much celebrity, and soon 
returned to Rome laden with the wealth which, in accord- 
ance with universal custom, he had extorted from the Span- 
ish people. By means of this wealth he secured his elec- 
tion to the consulship, the highest of&ce to which a Roman 
could then attain. Becoming thus powerful, he entered 
into a coalition with Pompey and Crassus, thus forming 
that famous triumvirate^ who divided Ja^tween themselves 
the dominion of the then known world.. 



SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 37 



CHAPTER 11. 

SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 
(From 44 B.C. to 673 A.D.) 

The Strife between Pompey and Caesar,— The Victorj'- of Caesar. — Spam under the 
Caesars. — The beneficent Reign of Augustus. — Tiberius Caligula. — Nero. — 
The four good Emperors. — Invasion of Spain by northern Barbarians. — Intro- 
duction of Christianity.— Martyrdom.— The Gothic Invasion and Empire. — 
Euric— Theodoric. — The Crown elective, — The Arians and Trinitarians. — 
Jealousy of the Nobles.— Adoption of the Catholic Faith.— Collection of Wam- 
ba. — Whimsical Letter of Paul. 

"TN the division which the triumvirs made between them- 
-^ selves of the Roman world, Spain, with other vast pos- 
sessions, was assigned to Pompej. But when civil war 
arose, and Pompey had been driven out of Italy by the suc- 
cessful usurpation of Caesar, the conqueror marched to 
Spain, to win that country from the three lieutenants to whom 
Pompey had intrusted its administration. Surmounting 
the Alps, and marching through Southern Gaul, Caesar en- 
tered Spain by skirting the extreme eastern termination 
of the Pyrenees, where they abut upon the Mediterranean. 
The first encounter between the troops of Csesar and those 
of Pompey was at Lerida, upon the Segre, one of the trib- 
utaries of the Ebro. Caesar routed his foes, and was then 
so strengthened by the native tribes crowding to his ban- 
ners that Pompey's lieutenants found it impossible to con- 
tinue the conflict, and were compelled to make an uncon- 
ditional surrender. Spain thus passed, almost without a 
struggle, into the hands of Caesar. This great achievement 



38 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

was accomplished, after entering Spain, in a campaign of but 
forty days. Caesar, thus victorious, assigned the two great 
provinces of Hither and Farther Spain, one to each of his 
lieutenants, Cassius and Lepidus, and then returned to Italy 

C prosecute the war against Pompey. 
Upon the fall of Pompey in Africa, his eldest son fled to 
ain, with many of his father's partisans. The memory of 
Pompey was still dear to many of the inhabitants, and several 
of the tribes rallied around his son. Again there was civil 
war in Spain. Yictory crowned the first efforts of the 
young Pompey, and soon nearly all the peninsula was in 
his possession. The emergency was so great that Caesar 
himself hastened, at the head of his legions, to reconquer 
the country. After several indecisive battles, the two con- 
tending forces met in great strength on the plains of Monda, 
twenty-four miles from Malaga. It was manifest that, on 
that day of blood, the fate of the peninsula was to be de- 
cided. At the commencement of the battle the tide of 
war turned against Caesar, and his ranks were rapidly melt- 
ing away before the stern blows of his assailants. Caesar 
was for a moment thrown into a state of terrible agitation. 
Raising his helmet, he spurred his horse into the midst of 
his soldiers, shouting : 

" Soldiers, I am your Caesar ! Veterans, after so many 
victories, will you suffer yourselves to be conquered by a 
boy? Do you thus abandon your chief? Rather will I 
perish by my own hand than by the sword of Pompey." 

Thus speaking, he made a movement as if determined 
to kill himself, should the battle continue to go against 
him. This dramatic appeal accomplished its purpose. 
The wavering ranks again became firm, and with redoubled 
vigor they pressed forward, and gained a complete victory. 



SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 39 



The young Pompey fled, leaving 30,000 of his followers 
dead upon the plain. The unhappy son of a sire whose 
woes had been as great as were his abilities, was pur- 
sued, taken, and cruelly put to death. Caesar, deeming 
the country subdued, returned to Eome, where the dag- 
ger of Brutus and his confederates terminated his brilliant 
career/) 

tJnder the long reign of the Koman emperors who suc- 
ceeded Julius C^sar, the founder of the Empire, Spain con- 
tinued one of the Eoman provinces, with but little to dis- 
tinguish it from any other part of the realm. Octavius 
Csesar, the successor of Julius, ascended the throne of the 
empire about the year 38 B.C. Octavius, who soon, from 
his achievements, acquired the title of Augustus, relin- 
quished the former division of Spain into Hither and Far- 
ther^ and instituted instead a threefold division. The whole 
north-eastern part of the country was organized into a prov- 
ince, called Tarraconensis. The southern section was called 
Bsetica. The western district, embracing what is now Por- 
tugal, and its adjacent sections, was named Lusitania. 

Spain, thus organized, thickly peopled with a warlike 
race, and containing immense resources of revenue, was 
deemed one of the most important provinces of the Eoman 
Empire, and Augustus Caesar decided to visit it in person. 
"With imperial pomp he traversed the realm, studying its ca- 
pabilities and the character of its inhabitants. He speedily 
discerned that the restless disposition of the natives was 
such that the country could only be held by military occu- 
pation. He therefore reared many fortresses, garrisoned 
them strongly, and quelled the slightest indications of re- 
volt with a relentless hand. Thus the spirit of the nation 
was subdued, and Spain, under Eoman law, shared in the 



40 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

general peace and prosperity, such as they were, which the 
Eoman Empire enjoyed. 

Spain had never been so happy before as under the reign 
of Augustus Caesar. He did what he could to curb the ra- 
pacity of the local governors; constructed roads and bridges, 
and conferred high dignities of government upon deserving 
natives of the country. The following anecdote is related, 
illustrative of his magnanimity, and the reputation he ac- 
quired. 

There was a celebrated robber by the name of Baracota, 
ranging the mountains, at the head of a determined band. 
He had for a long time been the terror of the country, 
either eluding or cutting to pieces all the forces sent to op- 
pose him. At length Augustus offered a large reward for 
his head. Baracota, knowing that any of his followers 
would gladly murder him for the reward, boldly delivered 
himself up to the Emperor, confessing his crimes, promising 
to abandon his lawless course of life, and demanding the re- 
ward which had been offered for his apprehension. The 
intrepidity of the bandit, and his confidence in the imperial 
clemency, so touched the Emperor that he pardoned the 
robber and conferred upon him the proffered reward. 

The reign of Tiberius Csesar, who followed Augustus, 
was a scourge to Spain, as to all other parts of the Eoman 
Empire. His own rapacity was exceeded only by that of 
the praetors, or governors, who ruled over the province. 
The taxes were doubled, the property of the rich confis- 
cated ; children were deprived of their inheritance, and any 
person whose property the tyrant coveted was sent into 
banishment or to the scaffold. 

The reign of the infamous Caligula was still more ruin- 
ous for Spain than was that of Tiberius Caesar. The re- 



SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 41 

morseless tyrant, having exhausted the revenues of Italy, 
plundered Spain pitilessly. Claudius and Nero followed 
in his footsteps, and Spain sank deeper and deeper in the 
abyss of poverty and woe. At length, goaded beyond en- 
durance by crime and outrage of every kind, Galba, the 
governor of Tarragona, in Spain, raised the standard of re- 
volt against Nero. He was declared emperor of the army 
which he had under his command, but was soon assassina- 
ted. Yespasian, and after him Titus, endeavored to repair 
the wrongs which ages of oppression had inflicted upon 
Spain ; and prosperity was just beginning to dawn upon 
the long-afflicted land, when the accession of Domitian to 
the throne of the empire, again introduced, through all the 
provinces of the Eoman world, the reign of rapine and 
isery. 

The Emperor Trajan, who was invested with the impe- 
rial"^ crown about the year of our Lord 97, was a Spaniard 
by birth. He proved one of the noblest sovereigns who 
ever swayed the Roman sceptre. His reign was a gala- 
day for Spain. Loving his native land, he did every thing 
in his power to promote its happiness by encouraging all 
the arts of peace. New roads were constructed, and mag- 
nificent bridges thrown across the streams. Arches, col- 
onnades, and aqueducts arose, and Spain, from the Pyrenees 
to Europa's point, clapped her hands for joy. Adrian, 
who succeeded Trajan, was also a Spaniard, and, though he 
inherited not the high genius of his predecessor, he was 
equally attached to his native land. Many monuments 
still remain in the Spanish peninsula indicative of his de- 
votion to the province which gave him birth. His suc- 
cessor, the great and good Antoninus Pius, was a Gaul, 
and, under his reign, Spain, with all the rest of the Roman 



42 ROMANCE OF SPAKISH HISTORY. 

world, enjoyed prosperity. He was succeeded by Marcus 
Aurelius, a Spaniard, who also secured the well-merited af- 
fection of his subjects. 

The reign of these four good emperors was extended 
over eighty-two years, and during all that time Spain was 
prosperous and happy^ But then came again the reign of 
darkness, and the-w^le world groaned beneath the iron 
rod of despotism. With all the rest of the empire, Spain 
was crushed beneath the weight of intolerable oppression. 
But as years rolled on, and corruption ate into the vitals 
of the Empire, the imperial arm became weakened, and the 
governors of the provinces assumed more of independence, 
and their extortion and tyranny passed all bounds. The 
people, goaded to madness, were continually rising in blind 
insurrections, only to be trampled down in blood by the 
Eoman legions. The only object of the government 
seemed to be plunder; robber bands swept the country, 
and poverty reigned in all dwellings excepting those of a 
favored few in the large cities. 

To add to these almost unearthly woes, there came, 
about A.D. 260, a flood of foreign invasion. Barbaric tribes, 
from the wilds of Germany, fierce as wolves, came sweep- 
ing through Graul, and, clambering the Pyrenees, ravaged 
Spain with the most savage mercilessness. They trampled 
down the crops, burned cities and villages, and the wretch- 
ed inhabitants of the peninsula were exposed to every out- 
rage which the imagination can conceive. For twelve 
years this inundation of woe rolled over Spain almost un- 
unchecked. The wretched Eoman Empire was at this 
time distracted by the conflicts of no less than thirty pre- 
tenders to the throne, and anarchy reigned throughout the 
known world. At length an energetic governor, who had 



SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 43 

extended his sway over both Spain and Gaul, arrested the 
barbaric flood and turned it in another direction. But so 
dreadful had been the ravages of these savage hordes, that 
they were not repaired by one hundred and fifty years of 
succeeding peace. 
V The introduction of Christianity into Spain is lost in the 
obscurity of the past. It is however certain that, in the 
early periods of the second century. Christian churches 
were established in the peninsula, and that the flames of 
martyrdom had also been kindled there. The martyrdom 
of Fructuosus, Bishop of the Church of Tarragona during 
the reign of Galienus, is well authenticated. The Emperor 
issued a decree commanding the Christians, under penalty 
of death, to sacrifice to the Eoman gods. Fructuosus paid 
no regard to the decree, and was consequently dragged be- 
fore Emilianus, then the Eoman governor of Spain. 

"Art thou acquainted," inquired Emilianus, "with the 
decree of the Emperor ?" 

"What is that decree?" replied Fructuosus. 

" That thou must sacrifice to the gods of Eome," was 
the answer. 

" I adore one God only," Fructuosus replied, " our Heav- 
enly Father, who has created heaven and earth." 

"Art thou ignorant, then, that there are many gods?" 
responded the governor. 

"I am," was the meek reply of the bishop. 

The soldiers were commanded immediately to seize 
him, bind him hand and foot, and lead him to the stake. 
He was seated upon a vast combustible pile, which was 
prepared to burst into flajne at the touch of the torch. 
Looking around upon his weeping friends, he said : 

" My brethren, fear not that you will ever want for 



44 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

pastors. God will never forsake you. "Weep not for me. 
These pangs will soon be over, and I shall enter those joy- 
ful realms to which martyrdom conducts me." 

As the flames wreathed around him, consuming the 
cords with which he was bound, he kneeled, amidst the 
roaring fire, apparently as tranquil as if in his own closet ; 
and with clasped hands, and breathing a fervent prayer, 
passed away to the martyr's crown. 

During the reign of Diocletian the fires of persecution 
blazed through the whole Spanish peninsula. Sometimes 
hundreds perished together. The governor of the popu- 
lous city of Saragossa, weary of hunting out Christians 
and executing them one by one, issued a decree that if the 
Christians would abandon the city and meet at an appoint- 
ed place without the walls, he would pardon them all, and 
assign them lands, where they might build a city and live 
by themselves, and enjoy their religion unmolested. 

Trusting to the honor of the governor, a great multi- 
tude of Christians — men, women, and children — issued from 
the gates. He then treacherously fell upon them with, sol- 
diers held in ambuscade, and every individual was massa- 
cred. Their bodies were all thrown together upon one 
funeral pyre and consumed. 

As corruption sapped the foundations of the Roman 
Empire, the northern barbarians became more bold in their 
assaults, and wave after wave of invasion rolled over the 
provinces of Southern Europe. In many localities the 
barbaric tribes established themselves permanently under 
their bold and sagacious chieftains. During the whole of 
the fifth century Spain was t];ie battle-ground, where the 
savage nations of the ITorth met and struggled for the as- 
cendency. In the early part of the century three Germanic 




THE MARTYRDOM OF FRUCTUOSUS, BISHOP OF TARRAGONA. 



SPAIN, KOMAN AND GOTHIC. 47 

tribes, the Suevi, the Alans, and the Vandals, came rushing 
over the Pyrenees, and, after perpetrating every imagina- 
ble enormity upon the native inhabitants, took possession 
of the country and divided it between them. 

But soon there came another people, the Goths, more 
powerful than the three tribes united which had preceded 
them, and commenced a desperate struggle to wrest Spain 
from its conquerors, and to appropriate it to themselves. 
Many campaigns of blood and woe ensued, with conflagra- 
tions, massacres, murders, and violence, which could not 
have been exceeded had the combatants been demons in- 
stead of men. In the progress of this war the Alans were 
annihilated. Still the war continued with occasional lulls, 
the Goths gradually gaining ground, until finally the Van- 
dals abandoned the country, and crossing the Straits, a 
tribe of 80,000 souls, carried the terror of their arms into 
Africa. This was in March, 427 A. D. 

The Suevi and the Goths were now alone left to strug- 
gle for the supremacy. It is true that there were some 
slight lingerings still of Koman power in portions of the 
peninsula, but so slight as scarcely to deserve notice. In. 
a series of campaigns, extending through ten years, the 
Suevi gradually gained the entire ascendency. 

But they were not permitted long to enjoy their tri- 
umph. Another contestant suddenly appeared upon the 
bloody arena, as the war-cry of the Huns resounded 
through the defiles of the mountains, and roused anew the 
clamor of battle. Suevi and Hun now rushed upon each 
other with gory clubs, and bit the dust together. But 
again, in the midst of these scenes of demoniac crime and 
misery, the banners of another host are seen hurrying to 
the battle. The Heruli landed from their boats upon the 



48 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

coast of Calabria, and plunged eagerly into the thickest of 
the fight. As wolves frantically struggle over the bones 
they have already gnawed bare of all their flesh, so did 
barbarian contend with barbarian over the skeleton re- 
mains of miserable Spain. There was no longer any law 
in the land. Spain had become barbaric. Eobbery, vio- 
lence, murder devasted the country from the Pyrenees to 
Gibraltar's rock. 

About 4:66 A. D., Euric, at the head of an immense Goth- 
ic force, descended from Gaul upon Spain, and soon suc- 
ceeded in bringing the whole realm into subjection to his 
sway. The Suevi were driven into the south-west portion 
of the kingdom, where they were permitted to live in 
peace, as the vassals of the conqueror. Euric, surrounded 
by his invincible warriors, was now recognized as the mon- 
arch of Spain, and is regarded as the founder of the Gothic 
kingdom "there. The Emperor, Julius Nepos, was glad to 
make peace with this warlike and triumphant sovereign by 
surrendering to him not only Spain, but the whole country 
beyond the Alps. Thus France, then called Gaul, and 
Spain became one Gothic empire, under Euric, more pow- 
erful at that time than decaying Eome itself 

Euric established the seat of his empire at Aries, in 
Gaul, on the Ehone, about thirty miles from its mouth. 
The Eoman sway had now disappeared from these realms 
forever. Thus, what is called the Gothic kingdom was 
founded and consolidated in Spain. All the remnants of 
the various tribes who had inundated the country were 
gradually blended, with the native inhabitants, into a ho- 
mogeneous people. Euric appears to have been a man of 
much intelligence, and vigorously he engaged in the work 
of reducing his realms to order. He established the famous 



SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 49 



code of Gothic law, still known as the Forum Judicum. 
He was nominally a Christian, though he adopted the 
Arian doctrine, and with merciless cruelty persecuted 
those Christians who adhered to the Trinitarian faith. 
Euric died at Aries in the year 483, and his son, Alaric, 
was elected by the warlike chieftains to succeed him on 
the throne. 

Alaric was unable to retain the empire which his fa- 
ther's sword had won. Clovis, from Northern Gaul, came 
down upon him, at the head of his warlike Franks, and the 
armies of Alaric were dispersed, and the king himself slain. 
A northern nation, called tlie Ostrogoths, had now taken 
possession of Italy, and Theodoric, their king, wrested 
Spain from Gensealic, the feeble successor of Alaric. Thus 
the peninsula became a province of the Italian Ostrogoths, 
governed by a general whom Theodoric intrusted with the 
administration. This general, Theudis, was also an Arian, 
but, unlike Euric, he left those of a different faith in the 
undisturbed enjoyment of their religion. His rule was up- 
right and sagacious. Laws were ordained, churches con- 
structed, public improvements encouraged, and councils 
convened to settle important and disputed doctrines of the 
Christian faith. Theodoric was the first who introduced 
the custom of temporal sovereigns appointing to offices in 
the Church of Christ. His favorites he placed in the Epis- 
copal chairs, thus secularizing the Church, and placing its 
offices of influence and honor by the side of those of the 
army and the navy. 

Theodoric, just before his death, surrendered the domin- 
ion of Spain, with the southern portion of Gaul, to his 
grandson, Amalaric, and thus Spain became again an inde- 
pendent kingdom. Seville was chosen as the metropolis of 

3 



50 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

this realm, which embraced the Pyrenees, and extended for 
many leagues along their northern slopes. But Amalaric 
soon fell in battle, engaged in a war with the Franks. A 
Gothic chieftain by the name of Theudis, was elected to the 
vacant throne. He was soon deprived of his inheritance in 
Gaul, and his soldiers were driven across the Pyrenees into 
Spain. The triumphant foe even pursued the fugitives 
down into the plains of the peninsula, and ravaged its 
provinces with their merciless arms. After a stormy reign, 
Theudis fell beneath the dagger of an assassin. 

Theudisel succeeded to the throne. He was a monster 
of wickedness, indulging in brutal passions without re- 
straint, and trampling with grossest violence upon all the 
most sacred relations of domestic life. A Gothic king in 
that day was elevated but little above his warrior nobles, 
and the dagger was the facile instrument with which to re- 
move an obnoxious incumbent from the throne. One even- 
ing Theudisel was supping with his court in his palace at 
Seville, in commemoration of a recent victory, when, at a 
given signal, the lamps were extinguished, and a dozen 
swords, wielded by the nervous hands of outraged hus- 
bands and fathers, pierced his body. 

Agilan succeeded him. His short reign was an inces- 
sant tempest. Many parts of Spain refused to acquiesce in 
his election. Civil war raged cruelly. The king was driv- 
en from his capital, and forced to take refuge in Merida. 
Surrounded by defeat, and with insurrection triumphant all 
over the land, he was slain by his own soldiers. 

Athanagild, a Gothic noble, who was the leading spirit 
in this triumphant revolt, obtained aid in his rebellion from 
the Emperor Justinian. The death of Agilan however 
did by no means end the strife ; on the contrary, it was but 



• SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 51 

the signal for a still more deadly conflict among the com- 
batants for the booty. The troops of Justinian were fight- 
ing for the Emperor, and not for Athanagild, and they re- 
mained for some time in Spain struggling for the possession 
of its provinces. They were eventually overcome, and the 
victor, with his sword ever unsheathed, maintained his 
throne. 

In this da}^, when the Church had come to be regarded 
as one of the most potent institutions of the State, religious 
disputes necessarily became the dividing line between po- 
litical parties. The great conflict between the Arians and 
the Trinitarians agitated all Christendom. The rancor of 
feeling was as severe, and the persecution as bitter, as has 
ever existed between Catholic and Protestant, or Aristo- 
crat and Democrat. It was political rather than religious 
zeal which envenomed the dispute. It would be tedious 
to follow the details of the strifes and the battles to which 
this division led. There was a succession of sovereigns 
whose reigns were agitated by this politico-religious -con- 
test. One of these sovereigns, Leovigild, in his exaspera- 
tion, caused the head of his son to be cleft by a hatchet, 
because he refused to abjure the Catholic faith and adopt 
that of Arius. 

Leovigild persecuted the Catholics fiercely. He plun- 
dered their churches and monasteries, and extorted vast 
sums from the rich as the penalty of their faith, while oth- 
ers were sent into exile, to the dungeon, and even to the 
scaffold. With the money thus acquired, he surrounded 
his court with unwonted splendor. He was publicly 
crowned, a pageant in which no other Gothic king had in- 
dulged, for the king had heretofore been considered but 
very slightly elevated above the chieftains who elected 



A 



52 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

him. He reared a magnificent throne in his palace, and 
studiously surrounded himself with all the pomp and pa- 
geantry of royalty. For the first time, under his reign, the 
effigy of the king was stamped upon the coin, with a dia- 
dem upon his brow. 

Upon the death of Leovigild, in the year 589, his son, 
Kecared I., was unanimously chosen as his successor. Ap- 
parently from sincere conviction he gradually abandoned 
the tenets of Arius, and espoused the Catholic cause. With 
singular sagacity, he adopted measures to bring back the 
whole Arian portion of the Spanish Church to the ancient 
faith. The treasure which had been wrested from the 
Catholic Church was restored. Public discussions were en- 
couraged, at which the king presided, exerting a gentle but 
decided influence in behalf of the cause he had secretly es- 
poused. By a merciful yet firm government, and by great 
kindness to the poor, he won general popularity. Having 
thus prepared the way for his attempt to establish unity of 
religious faith throughout his realms, he assembled a gen- 
eral council of his clergy and nobles at Toledo on the 8th 
of May, 589. After the council had devoted three days to 
fasting and prayer, the king, in a carefully-prepared speech, 
opened the subject for which he had convened them. The 
substance of his address was as follows : 

"Eeligion is a subject more important than all others to 
man, since it involves not only his prosperity in this life, 
but also his eternal welfare in the life to come. Unhappily 
antagonistic schemes of religion divide the Church in Spain. 
The most careful consideration has convinced me that the 
ancient Catholic system is the religion of the Bible, and I 
wish now publicly to make a profession of my Christian 
faith in connection with that Church. Though my con- 



SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 53 

science impels me to this step, still I have no wish to con- 
strain the conscience of any other man. But if unity of 
religious faith can by any possibility be restored to Spain, 
it will prove the greatest blessing which could be conferred 
upon the realm, introducing peace to the distracted king- 
dom, and promoting national prosperity and individual 
happiness. I do therefore now publicly abjure the errors 
of Arianism, and declare my belief in the co-equality of the 
three persons of the Godhead, the Father, the Son, and the 
Holy Ghost, and I submit myself to the authority of the 
Catholic and Apostolic Church. It is also my earnest de- 
sire that all who are present should follow my example." 

The king was beloved, and love is far more potent in 
promoting conversion than argument. Denominational 
differences are ordinarily social in their origin, the result of 
elective affinities rather than of intellectual conviction. Ee- 
ligious theses and political platforms were at this time so 
blended that partisanship rather than enlightened conscien- 
tiousness controlled in the Church as well as in the State. 
The speech of the popular king was received with a general 
burst of applause. Nearly all the prelates and nobles, who 
•were present, with enthusiasm followed the king. Their 
assent was given with such singular unanimity that imme- 
diately it was decreed that the Catholic religion should be 
henceforth the religion of the State, and that no person 
should be admitted to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, 
who would not first give his assent to the orthodox creed 
sanctioned by the Council of Constantinople. Some of the 
more vigorous or conscientious of the Arian prelates de- 
nounced this apostasy, as they deemed it, in unmeasured 
terms. Their indignation led so far as even to incite them 
to conspire against the life of the king. 



64 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The Gothic kingdom of Spain, at this time, extended 
across the Pyrenees into Gaul ; and, though the Franks sent 
a force of sixty thousand men to recover Southern Gaul 
from Eecared, they were utterly routed, leaving nine thou- 
sand of their number dead upon the field. The reign of Re- 
cared was singularly prosperous and happy. He seems to 
have devoted all his energies with great sagacity to the pro- 
motion of the welfare of his' subjects. He died a.d. 601. 

Several kings succeeded, during whose reigns nothing 
of moment occurred. Liuva, after a weak and brief reign, 
was assassinated. Witeric succeeded, and closed a few 
years of shame and calamityby being murdered at his own 
table, and his body was thrown contemptuously into a ditch. 
Gundemar, in whose hands the sceptre was next placed, 
was a warrior, and, after a few military exploits of some re- 
nown, died in his bed. Sisebert then accepted the perilous 
diadem. He was an energetic king, and he displayed a de- 
gree of humanity marvellous in those days, even weeping 
over the gory spectacle of the battle-field, and doing every 
thing in his power to mitigate the inevitable horrors of 
war. And yet, with this humanity for Spaniards and Goths, 
and all included, even nominally, within the Christian pale, 
he was merciless beyond all bounds in his treatment of the 
Jews. He issued a decree that every Jew, unless he would 
submit to the ordinance of baptism, and profess the Chris- 
tian faith, should be publicly scourged, stripped of all his 
possessions, and turned loose to starve. By this horrid in- 
tolerance, eighty thousand were compelled to receive bap- 
tism. Many escaped into France, and many, sternly adher- 
ing to the faith of their fathers, suffered, to the bitter end, 
this cruel persecution. 

The Jew, while thus forcibly submitting to baptism, and 



SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 55 

partaking of the bread and the wine, cursed Christ in his 
heart ; and it soon became so evident that this violence was 
promoting hypocrisy, not Christianity, that by a council 
convened at Toledo the very sensible resolve was adopted 
that the sacrament should henceforth be administered only 
to those who wished to receive it. Independently of this 
persecution, which the darkness of the age explains but 
does not excuse, Sisebert was a wise and patriotic sovereign. 
He took much interest in mercantile affairs, and commenced 
the construction of a fleet. He was also much of a scholar, 
and several of his letters still remain. At the time of his 
death, in the year 621, Spain was probably in a higher state 
of prosperity than it had ever been before. 

His son, Eecared, who was elected to succeed him, after 
a short reign of three months sank into the grave, and the 
Gothic nobles placed Swintila in the supreme command. 
With amazing energy he commenced his reign, and singu- 
lar prosperity crowned his administration. But success and 
power fostered pride and cruelty. He become arrogant and 
despotic, and endeavored to change the elective crown into 
an hereditary one by decreeing that his son should succeed 
him. This so exasperated the proud Gothic nobles, who 
considered the king but as one of their own number whom 
they elected to lead their armies, that indignantly, after a 
pretty stern conflict, they succeeded in deposing Swintila, 
and the sceptre was placed in the hands of Sisenand. 

The Franks in Gaul, aided the Spanish Goths in the dep- 
osition of Swintila ; and the Gothic chieftains, as a remu- 
neration, presented their allies with a large sum of gold. 
The Franks appropriated this treasure to the construction 
of the magnificent Church of St. Denis, near Paris, which 
has since served as the mausoleum of the kings of France. 



66 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Sisenand, to consolidate his power, convened a council of 
high ecclesiastics and influential nobles of the laity at To- 
ledo, A.D. 683. The political supremacy which the Church 
had then attained is indicated by the acts of this council. 
Swintila, the deposed sovereign, was excommunicated, with 
his wife, his child, and his brother. All their property was 
confiscated, and they were placed, unprotected by law, at 
the mercy of the king. It was also decreed that hence- 
forth no election of a king should be valid until con- 
firmed by a council, regularly convened, of the clergy and 
the nobles. 

Chintila was elected to succeed Sisenand in 636. A 
council of the clergy, and of nobles of the laity, was prompt- 
ly convened to ratify the election. This council issued the 
singular decree that in the future no one should be nomi- 
nated king unless he were of noble blood, and of pure 
Gothic descent. Another decree was soon promulgated, 
that the elected king should always take an oath not to suf- 
fer the exercise of any other religion than the Catholic, and 
to enforce the laws rigorously against all dissidents, espec- 
ially against " that accursed people the Jews." There were 
however many Christians who, better understanding the 
mind of Christ, protested against this intolerance, and even 
Chintila disapproved of the ordinance. 

Tulga next ascended the throne, in 640. He proved so 
inefficient, allowing the laws to be broken with impunity, 
that, after disgracing the throne for two years, the nobles 
shut him up in a monastery, and placed the sceptre in the 
hands of Chindaswind, a stern old man, who, with a mailed 
hand, boxed all insubordination into pliant obedience. His 
authority became so indisputable, and the terror of his arm 
so great, that he was enabled to associate his son, Eeces- 



SPAIN, ROMAN AND GOTHIC. 57 

wind, with liim in the royal dignity, and to transmit to him 
the crown. 

The Gothic nobles, proud of their independence, and 
of their right of electing their sovereigns, were alarmed by 
this advance towards the hereditary transmission of the 
throne, and rose in revolt. An army was speedily gath- 
ered on the north side of the Pyrenees. They crossed the 
mountains, but soon meeting the king's troops, they were 
dispersed, and almost annihilated. Thus the opposition to 
the royal authority was crushed. Receswind proved a 
worthy prince, and seems to have been a man of piety. 
The temptation was very great for the sovereign to avail 
himself of his position in acquiring vast wealth to transmit 
to his children. The clergy issued a decree, which the king 
sanctioned, that thenceforth all the wealth acquired by the 
king after his accession to the throne should be transmitted, 
not to his children, but to the crown. Receswind died at 
an advanced age, in the year 672, and was succeeded by 
Wamba. 

The new sovereign was chosen by the electors. The 
name of Wamba is one of the most illustrious in the annals 
of the ancient kings of Spain. He was truly a noble in 
character as in blood. He had already filled many of the 
most important posts in the State, and, weary of active life, 
had sought retirement. When informed of his election, 
he earnestly begged to be excused from accepting the prof- 
fered dignity, alleging his advanced age and consequent inca- 
pacity for the labors which the responsible post required. 
The importunity, however, was such that he was virtually 
compelled to accept the crown. Wamba had hardly taken 
his seat upon the throne in Toledo ere the Goths, on the oth- 
er side of the Pyrenees, rose in rebellion, and chose Flavins 



58 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Paulus, a Greek duke, for their king. They crowned him 
at Narbonne. Paulus sent the following whimsical letter, as 
a declaration of war, and a challenge to his Southern rival : 
" In the name of the Lord, Flavins Paulus, King of the 
East, to Wamba, King of the South. Tell me, warrior, lord 
of woods and friend of rocks, hast thou ever run through 
the sharp rocks of uninhabitable mountains? Hast thou 
ever, like the strongest lion, broken down with thy breast 
the thickets and trees of the forest ? Hast thou ever out- 
^stripped the deer in speed, or outleaped the stag, or subdued 
the devouring bears ? Hast thou ever triumphed over the 
venom of vipers and serpents ? If thou hast done all this, 
hasten unto us, that we may be abundantly regaled with 
the notes of the nightingale. Wherefore, thou wonderful 
man, whose courage rises with the occasion, come down 
to the defiles of the Pyrenees. There thou wilt find the 
great redresser of wrongs, whom thou canst engage with- 
out dishonor/' 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 59 



CHAPTER III. 

THE MOORISH INVASION. 

(From 673 A.D. to 821 a.d.) 

Conflict between "Wamba and Paulus. — Reign of Waniba, and his singular Fate. 
— Conspiracy of the Jews. — The Reign of Roderic. — Invasion of the Saracens. 
— Death of Roderic. — Triumph of the Moorish Invasion. — Conflicts of the 
Caliphs. — Damascus against Bagdad. — Civil War in Spain. — Invasion of Gaul 
by the Moors. — Charles Martel, and the Battle of Tours. — Moorish Splendor 
in Cordova. — The Moorish Monarchy. 

WAMBA calmly but resolutely assembled bis forces, 
and marcbed to encounter Paulus, tbe vainglorious 
boaster. He divided bis army into tbree bodies, one of 
wbicb was conveyed by sea, and tbe otber two proceeded 
by different land-routes towards tbe Pyrenees. Crusbing 
all opposition before bim, be advanced to tbe very walls 
of Karbonne. Paulus, bumiliated by defeat, left a portion 
of bis troops to defend tbe city and fled to ISTismes, tbere to 
make bis last stand. Duke Wittimer was intrusted witb 
tbe defense of Narbonne. Tbe royal troops, witb Gotbic 
ferocity, speedily scaled tbe walls of tbe city, cut down all 
opposition, and tbe streets ran red witb blood. Wittimer, 
baving been seized in a cburcb, to wbicb be bad fled as a 
sanctuary, was publicly scourged as a rebel. 

Narbonne being tbus reduced, tbe monarcb advanced, 
witb determined strides, to ISTismes. Here Paulus was 
strongly intrencbed witb tbe bravest of bis troops. Tbe 
assault was terrible, but for a wbole day no impression 
could be made upon tbe defenses. As nigbt came, botb 



60 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

besiegers and besieged, still grasping their arms, threw 
themselves upon the ground for repose. With the earliest 
dawn of the morning the strife was renewed. Paulus, 
who, notwithstanding his braggart spirit, was by no means 
a coward, viewed from a tower the dense columns of the 
enemy preparing for the assault. With the following ha- 
rangue he endeavored to animate his desponding troops : 

" Old Wamba has triumphed only where he met little 
resistance. He finds that he has now to deal with solid 
walls, and with hearts still more impregnable than those 
walls, and he begins to discover his natural cowardice. He 
has brought his whole force against us. Let us now rush 
upon them, and destroy the handful of men we see before 
us, and we can march unopposed from Nismes to Toledo." 

But the soldiers could not be induced to make a sally. 
They preferred to fight behind their ramparts, replying to 
Paulus, ''These Goths are no cowards." For five hours 
the battle raged, the besieged defending themselves with 
all the fury of despair. But at length the gates were set 
on fire, the walls scaled, and, after a short but terrific strug- 
gle in the streets, the troops of Wamba remained in un- 
disturbed possession of the city. There was but little 
mercy shown the insurgents. The avenger pursued them 
everywhere, and the streets were clogged with the gory 
bodies of the dead. Paulus, in disguise, hid in the im- 
mense vaults beneath the amphitheatre. There he crouch- 
ed, through the long night, enduring pangs more bitter 
than death. 

In the morning, Wamba, who had pitched his tent at 
some distance from the walls, entered the gates, and gave 
orders that no more blood should be shed. The inhabit- 
ants who survived crowded around him in abject submis- 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 63 

sion, imploring pardon. Paulus was discovered, dragged 
from bis retreat, and led into the presence of his conqueror. 
His courage had now vanished entirely, and, in utter hu- 
miliation, he prostrated himself at the feet of Waraba, 
pleading for life. 

" Thy life and those of thy companions," said Wamba, 
" I have promised to spare, though ye deserve not the in- 
dulgence." 

He then condemned Paulus and his surviving generals 
to have their heads shaven, and to be consigned to perpet- 
ual confinement in one of the monasteries of Toledo. Af- 
ter devoting some time to the reparation of the ruins of 
Nismes, and having pacified the whole of Gothic Gaul, de- 
posing some governors and appointing others, Wamba re- 
turned to Toledo. His entrance into his capital was in 
imitation of the old Eoman triumphs. A large number of 
captives preceded him, their chins and heads shaven, their 
feet bare, and clothed in the coarsest garments, made of 
camel's hair. Paulus occupied a conspicuous position, hav- 
ing a leathern crown placed derisively upon his brow, and 
being surrounded with mock homage. After enduring for 
hours the jeers of the populace, and all the mental anguish 
which insult and contempt could inflict, he was sent to 
pass the remainder of his days in the cells of a cloister. 

Tranquillity being thus secured, Wamba devoted all his 
energies to the promotion of the welfare of his subjects. 
The prosperity of Spain was greatly advanced during his 
vigorous and sagacious sway. Education was encouraged, 
purity of religion countenanced, and all the arts of indus- 
try fostered.' The foresight of the monarch was so re- 
markable that, in anticipation of the invasion of the Sara- 
cens, he had a large fleet constructed for the defense of the 



64 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Spanish coasts. The wisdom of this caution was soon man- 
ifest. The fleet was just equipped for battle when, in the 
year 677, a powerful army of the Saracens, crowding one 
hundred and seventy barques, crossed the Straits of Gibral- 
tar from Africa, and attempted to effect a landing in Spain. 
These fierce barbarians, called Arabs in their Oriental 
haunts, but taking the name of Saracens and Moors in 
Europe, had already overrun nearly the whole of North- 
ern Africa, holding many nations in subjection by the ter- 
ror of their arms. But the fleet of Wamba advanced to 
meet them, and the wolfish assailants were driven back to 
Africa with great slaughter. 

The end of Wamba was curious indeed, and singularly 
illustrative of the superstitions of that day. From the be- 
ginning of the fifth century the custom had prevailed that, 
when any one was dying, he should assume the tonsure and 
the monkish habit, thus devoting himself to the service of 
God as a priest for the remainder of his life. This became 
gradually the universal custom, so that a man would be 
deemed infamous, and an infidel, who should neglect to 
make this preparation, sanctified by the Church, to meet 
God in judgment. From these vows there was no release, 
so that, if one chanced to recover, the vows made under such 
solemn circumstances could not be annulled. If the dying 
man were too far gone to take the monastic vow for himself, 
his friends assumed the obligation for him, and, though in 
a state of perfect insensibility, his head was shaven, he was 
clothed in the monastic robes, and the rite was considered 
equally binding as if it had been assumed at his own re- 
quest. Of course, under ordinary circumstances, both the dy- 
ing and their friends were very careful not to assume these 
vows unless it were very evident that death was at hand. 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 65 

"Wamba, in the midst of all the vigor of his administra- 
tion, wielding, with almost unparalleled energy and sagacity 
the sceptre of empire, had a severe fainting-fit, in which he 
appeared to all to be dying. In great alarm his friends 
gathered around him, expecting every moment to see him 
breathe his last. His head was hastily shorn, the monastic 
garb placed upon him, and he was invested with all the 
sacredness of the priesthood. He however revived, and in 
twenty -four hours was as well as ever. But the irretrieva- 
ble deed was done. The king was a monk, and from those 
monkish vows there was no escape but at the peril of his 
soul. Indeed, had he disregarded them, the whole Chris- 
tian world would have regarded him as an apostate, stained 
with the most awful perjury of which a mortal soul could 
be guilty. "Wamba, piously inclined, doubtless regarded 
the event as providential, as indicative of the divine will. 
We hear no murmurs from his lips. Submissively he en- 
tered the cloister, and passed the remainder of his days in 
solitude, fastings, penance, and prayer. 

A council was convened in Toledo of clerical fathers 
and nobles of the laity, and Ervigius, whom Wamba had 
nominated, was declared king. But the affections of the 
people still lingered around Wamba. To court favor, Er- 
vigius granted unconditional pardon to all who had taken 
up arms against Wamba in the rebellion of Duke Paulus, 
and remitted all taxes due to the treasury. To secure the 
crown in his family, he united his daughter in marriage 
with Ejica, a brother of Wamba. When he died, after 
an inglorious reign of five years, Ejica succeeded to the 
throne. There were at that time in Spain many Jews who, 
though they had, through compulsion, received the rite of 
baptism, still, in heart, held to the faith of their fathers, and. 



66 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

groaning under the oppression thej endured, longed for de- 
liverance. They were, of course, eager to engage in any 
enterprises of rebellion which promised them relief. 

The Jews were accused, and probably with reason, of en- 
tering into a conspiracy with their brethren in Africa, who, 
in confederacy with the Saracens, agreed to invade Spain, 
and, by overthrowing the Gothic power there, were to es- 
tablish the Saracenic sway, under which the Jews were to 
enjoy toleration. Alarmed by the whisperings of danger 
which reached his ears, the king summoned a council. 
The bishops, appointed by him, and regarded as officers of 
his Government, were of course submissive to his will. By 
this council it was decreed that any baptized Jew who 
should relapse should be consigned to perpetual slavery, 
and that the children of the Jews, when seven years of age, 
should be taken from them, and educated under the pro- 
tection of Christians appointed for that purpose. After an 
energetic but intolerant reign of about thirteen years, Ejica 
died, and his son, Witiza, received the diadem. 

The new king was one of those monsters of depravity 
who have occasionally appeared upon almost every throne, 
converting the palace into a harem of debauchery which 
neither Sodom nor Gomorrah could outvie. He was un- 
blushing in his vices, filling his saloons with concubines ; 
and it is recorded that he became so lost to all sense of 
shame that he even published an edict authorizing all his 
his subjects, ecclesiastical as well as lay, to take as many 
concubines as they could obtain. The remonstrances of 
the Pope he rejected with contempt. The utter dissolute- 
ness of his life is indicated by the innumerable and incred- 
ible stories to his disadvantage with which the ancient an- 
nals are filled. He placed his own creatures in episcopal 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 67 

chairs, vice rather than virtue constituting a recommenda- 
tion. It is recorded that he murdered the Duke of Biscay 
with his own hand, that he put out the eyes of the Duke 
of Cordova, and that finally one of the sons of this duke 
raised a rebellion, and, by the aid of a Gallic alliance, de- 
throned "Witiza, and, having torn out his eyes, threw the 
wretched tyrant into a dungeon, where he perished no one 
knows when or how. 

In the year 709 Koderic ascended the Gothic throne 
of Spain. The sons of Witiza repaired to Africa, and 
engaged the co-operation of the Saracens to wrest the 
throne from Eoderic. The Goths had now become greatly 
enervated by luxury; a voluptuous climate, and a fertile 
soil requiring but little labor. There were also in Spain 
the two numerous classes of Jews and slaves, eager to join 
any invading host whose banners promised emancipation. 
On the 30th of April, 711, the Saracens landed, in great 
force, at the foot of the rock of Gibraltar, then called Calpe. 
This embarkation led to results which occupy a very prom- 
inent place in the history of Spain. The governor of this 
province of Andalusia, terrified by the apparition, wrote to 
Eoderic for help. 

"A horde of Africans," said he, "have just landed on 
our coasts, so strange in appearance that one might take 
them as much for inhabitants of the sky as of the earth. 
They suddenly assailed me. I resisted as well as I could 
their entrance into the country, but their number and im- 
petuosity have prevailed. In spite of my efforts, they are 
now encamped on our soil. Send me more troops without 
a moment's delay. Collect all who can bear arms. So 
urgent is the occasion that I consider even your own pres- 
ence necessary." 



68 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The king immediately dispatched a large cavalry force 
to the aid of his general. larik, the leader of the Saracens, 
as an indication of his confidence, and to prevent his fol- 
lowers from thinking of retreat, burned his ships. The 
Christians and the Moors soon met again upon the field of 
battle. The Christians were again vanquished, and the 
Moorish horsemen swept the country in all directions, grat- 
ifying their passions of lust and cruelty, and plundering 
without restraint. Eoderic was now thoroughly alarmed, 
and, at the head of his whole force, amounting to ninety 
thousand men, marched to meet the invaders. He first 
caught sight of their banners as they were drawn up in 
challenge of battle, upon the western banks, of the Guada- 
lette, about six miles from Cadiz. The Saracen army con- 
sisted of but thirty thousand men, but they were all picked 
soldiers, veterans in war, and accustomed to victory. 

In the earliest dawn of the morning, with clash of weap- 
ons, and whoops of war which rent the skies^ the two ar- 
mies rushed upon each other. Through the long hours of 
one of the hottest of July days, until the sun sank below 
the horizon, the battle was waged with unabated fury, nei- 
ther party gaining any decided advantage. Night alone 
separated the combatants. As soon as the light of another 
morning appeared, the warriors sprang to their arms, and 
renewed the fight. Again, through the hours of another 
summer's day, with crash of armor and cry of onset, the 
bloody surges of battle swept to and fro, till the gloom of 
another night rendered it impossible to distinguish friend 
from enemy. The exhausted hosts slept upon their arms, 
but to renew the battle with increasing frenzy as soon as 
the rays of the third morning appeared in the east. It was 
nearly noon of this third day ere the battle was decided. 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 69 

larik, recognizing the Gothic king by his pompous sur- 
roundings, called upon a few of his most resolute warriors 
to follow him, and, plunging through the thickest of the 
enemy's squadrons, cut down Koderic with his own scim- 
eter. The Christians, whose diminished ranks were alreadj^ 
wavering, now turned and fled. The victory of the Moors 
was complete. Thus ended the monarchy of the Goths in 
Spain, after one of the longest-fought battles recorded in 
history. The native tribes of Spain had first passed under 
the dominion of all-conquering Carthage. The Koman le- 
gions next took possession of the peninsula. After the 
lapse of a few centuries the Goths drove the Romans from 
the land, and established the Gothic kingdom in Spain. 
And now their dominion is at an end, and the Moorish sway 
commences. 

Theodomir, with the fragments of the Gothic army, fled 
to the mountains of Granada, and, for a time, kept up a 
sort of guerrilla warfare which merely annoyed the foe 
without checking his career of conquest. The Crescent of 
the Moslem was soon floating victorious over the towers 
of Malaga, Cordova, and Toledo. larik, having made a 
triumphant entrance into the capital of Spain, exultingly 
took possession of the royal palace, where, it is said, he 
found twenty -five crowns of gold, each of which had dec- 
orated the brow of some one of the Gothic kings who had 
preceded him. 

Damascus was at this time the Mohammedan capital, 
where the Caliph Walid was enthroned, who extended the 
sceptre, both of temporal and spiritual power, over the 
whole Moslem world. Muza was the governor, or emir, as 
he was called, who reigned over the subjugated provinces of 
Northern Africa. From his ports he had sent the expedi- 



70 ROMANCE OF SPANISH. HISTORY. 

tion into Spain, under the command of larik, who was one 
of his generals. The marvellous renown which larik was 
gaining by his conquest alarmed the jealousy of Muza, and 
he hastened in person to Spain to assume the command 
and reap himself the harvest of glory. 

He landed upon the peninsula with a large re-enforce- 
ment, and, seeking to outdo his successful general, imme- 
diately laid siege to Seville, which in one month he re- 
duced. Thence entering Lusitania, he advanced in a ca- 
reer of unchecked conquest until he arrived before the al- 
most impregnable battlements of the ancient city of Merida. 
Here the Goths, behind ramparts which ages had reared 
and strengthened, made a desperate stand. The conflict 
was long, and very bloody, but at length the city capitula- 
ted, and the Orescent supplanted the Cross upon the towers 
of this renowned capital of Old Spain. Among the hosta- 
ges surrendered upon this occasion there was the widow of 
Koderic. The head of that unfortunate king had already 
been sent to Damascus as one of the trophies of victory. 

From Merida, Muza hastened to Toledo, where he es- 
tablished his court, and devoted himself to the consolida- 
tion of his power over the vast kingdom his arms had won. 
But there was a feud daily growing more bitter between 
Muza and larik, which at last became so unrelenting, each 
being sustained by his troops, that the strife reached the 
ears of the caliph, and he summoned them both to appear 
before his throne in Damascus. This summons was a ter- 
rible dfsappointment to Muza, for, intoxicated with suc- 
cess, he had formed the ambitious plan of conquering Oaul, 
Italy, and Grermany ; of marching down the valley of the 
Danube, subduing and plundering, to the Euxine Sea ; 
thence to advance to Constantinople, and overthrow the 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 71 

Greek Empire there. He was not, however, sufficiently 
strong to resist the imperial mandate, and relinquishing, for 
a time, all these visions of glory, he intrusted the command 
of Spain to his oldest son, Abdelasis, and saclly turned his 
steps, through his African provinces, towards Syria. 

He returned, however, with the pomp of a conqueror. 
Many thousand captives followed in his train, among whom 
there appeared four hundred Gothic nobles splendidly ap- 
parelled. He also conveyed in his army-chests enormous 
treasure to propitiate his master. It was near the close of 
the year 714 when Muza approached Damascus. But 
Walid was then upon the bed of death, and in a few days 
after the arrival of Muza he was conveyed to the tomb. 
Suleyman, a brother of the departed caliph, ascended the 
Moslem throne. He, being bitterly hostile to Muza, cast 
him into prison, ordered him to be scourged, and inflicted 
upon him a fine, prodigious in those days, amounting to 
four hundred thousand dollars. 

Suleyman then sent secret orders to Spain for the de- 
position and death of Abdelasis, who had married the wid- 
ow of Eoderic, and who was energetically bringing the 
whole of the peninsula into subjection to his sway. The 
unsuspecting prince was poniarded by assassins as he was 
assisting at morning prayers in the mosque at Seville. 
His head was cut off and sent to the caliph, in proof that 
his commission had been faithfully executed. Suleyman 
inhumanly exhibited the gory trophy to Muza, asking him 
if he recognized the features. The grief- stricken father 
uttered a cry of anguish, and soon sank into his grave. 
Sad as was his fate, it is the general testimony of the histo- 
rians of that day that he merited no pity. In his conquer- 
ing career, he had proved a monster of rapacity and cruelty, 



72 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

and he was plotting still more awful inflictions of woe upon 
the nations. 

Upon the assassination of Abdelasis, the Arab chiefs 
chose Ayub, a nephew of Muza, as governor, or emir, of 
Spain. He was eminently a just and merciful man, and 
his sway was alike acceptable to Christian and Moslem. 
But the caliph was indignant that the sheiks should as- 
sume the power of appointing the emir, and he immediate- 
ly deposed Ayub and appointed Alhaur to the vice-roj^al 
dignity. The rapacity of the new governor was boundless. 
It was a prominent object of his administration to extort 
money from the province, not only to enrich himself, but 
that, by transmitting vast sums to the caliph, he might re- 
tain his favor. But at length complaints so loud and bit- 
ter were uttered by both Spaniards and Moors that Alha-ur 
was replaced by Alsama. 

The new emir, gathering a large army, of which he took 
the command, crossed the Pyrenees, captured ISTarbonne, 
and, advancing to Toulouse, laid siege to the city. The 
garrison made a vigorous sortie from the walls, and, aided 
by re-enforcements from a distance, after a bloody battle 
repelled the Moors. The emir himself, a large number of 
his sheiks, and many thousands of his soldiers, were left 
dead upon the plain. The shattered army, under the ef- 
ficient leadership of Abderaman, a lieutenant of the emir, 
effected a retreat to Narbonne. Here Abderaman was 
chosen emir, and the choice was confirmed by the home 
Government. Emir now succeeded emir in rapid succes- 
sion, and, as a general rule, oppression, outrage, and vio- 
lence filled the land. 

After a lapse of years, Abderaman, who had conducted 
the retreat from Gaul, and -who, after temporarily occupy- 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 73 

ing the post of emir, had been deposed, was reinstated in 
that office. He made preparations, such as had never been 
formed before, for the invasion and the conquest of Gaul. 
It was his intention to carry the banner of the Prophet in 
triumph through Europe ; and all Europe was in dismay 
in view of a menace so terrible, accompanied by a force 
which, apparently, there was no power in Christendom able 
to resist. 

He commenced his march across the Pyrenees with 
such an armament as had not been seen since the days of 
Attila. An army of fiends could not perpetrate greater 
atrocities than marked their progress. There was no con- 
ceivable outrasre which these barbaric hordes did not in- 
flict upon suffering humanity. The blaze of dwellings, the 
blood of the slain, the shrieks of matrons and maidens ac- 
companied their steps. They speedily took possession of 
all the provinces of Southern and Central France, advanc- 
ing even to the banks of the Loire. It is not known how 
numerous they were, but, according to some accounts, the 
bannered host amounted to three hundred thousand. 

£ie renowned Charles Martel, mayor of the Franks, 
red throughout Northern Gaul, Belgium, and Ger- 
a select army, though by no means equal to that of 
the Saracens, and offered them battle on the extended plain 
between Tours and Poitiers, both of which cities were in 
possession of the foe. The date of this important battle 
is not with certainty known, though it was probably in the 
year 733. The battle was long and bloody, equal despera- 
tion being displayed by both parties. But at length the 
tide of victory set in favor of the Franks. But the dark- 
ness of night now enveloped the combatants, and, repairing 
to their tents, they slept upon their arms. 

4 



74 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY; 

When the morning dawned the Franks prepared to re- 
new the struggle. The white tents of the Arabs still coy- 
ered the plain, extending as far as the eye could reach. 
But they were silent and solitary. The victory of the 
Franks proved far more signal than they had imagined. 
The leader of the Saracens, Abderaman, was slain, and the 
slaughter of his troops had been enormous. Historians as- 
sert, probably with much exaggeration, that three hundred 
thousand of the Franks and the Saracens were left dead 
upon the field. In the darkness of the night the thinned 
and bleeding battalions of the foe stole from their tents, 
and silently commenced a precipitate retreat. They in- 
dulged in no delay for refreshment or repose until their 
drooping banners disappeared through the southern defiles 
of the Pyrenees. Christendom was thus saved from the 
ravages of the Moslem ; and throughout all Christian Eu- 
rope the churches were thronged with worshippers return- 
ing thanks to Heaven for their almost miraculous deliver- 
ance. It is impossible now to conceive of the enthusiasm 
which this marvellous victory excited throughout Chris- 
tendom. It was from this renowned battle that Charles 
acquired the title of Martel, or the Hammer. 

Abdelmelic was appointed to succeed Abderaman, and 
was ordered by the caliph immediately to invade Gaul 
anew, that the dishonor which had befallen the Moslem 
arms might be retrieved. He made the attempt, but the 
Frank '' Hammer " fell upon him with such sturdy blows 
that his hosts were dispersed, and in wildest route, hotly 
pursued, fled through the defiles of the mountains. With 
these dii^sters the hopes of the Saracens for the conquest 
of Gaul wre terminated. 

The Moors^ established their capital at Cordova. A few 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 75 

Christians had fled to the extreme northern province of 
Asturias, washed by the Bay of Biscay, where they were 
essentially unmolested, simply because they were not worth 
the trouble of subduing in the midst of their mount- 
ain fastnesses. For twenty years there was civil war 
among the Moors, emir contending against rival emir, and 
the Moors were consumed and weakened by their own 
swords. The mass of those called Christians in those days 
had even less of the spirit of piety than the irreligious 
masses of those who are merely nominal Christians now. 
There were then, as now, many sincere followers of Jesus 
Christ, possessing his spirit. But the multitude of the peo- 
ple denominated Christians merely because they belonged 
to a nation called Christian were, in intelligence and virtue, 
but slightly, if at all, superior to the Moors. 

The Spanish people now consisted of an amalgamation 
and a conglomerate of the aboriginal Spanish tribes, the 
Greek colonists, the Carthaginians and Eoman conquerors, 
and of the innumerable Gothic nations, Yandals, Huns, 
Alans, Suevi, and Visigoths, who had in successive waves 
surged over the land. 

While the Moors were engaged in their domestic broils, 
sweeping the wretched realm with incessant storms of bat- 
tle, desolating provinces with fire and blood, the Christians in 
Asturias were gradually increasing in numbers, concentrat- 
ing their strength, and planting the germs of a new kingdom, 
which in its growth was destined to expel the Moors from 
Spain. Alphonso I., an elected sovereign of this little 
band, enlarged his domains by invading and annexing a 
large portion of the adjacent provinces of Galicia and Leon. 

The civil war which had disjj^cted the Moors in Spain 
pervaded the whole Moslem world/j About the middle of 



76 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

the eighth century there were two rival caliphs struggling 
against each other with the most implacable ferocity. The 
Mohammedans of Arabia rallied around Ali ; those of Syria 
sustained Moavias. From this conflict is to be dated the 
schism which still separates the Turks from the Persians. 
The caliphs of Damascus and the caliphs of Bagdad long 
waged against each other inexorable war. 

About forty years had now elapsed since the conquest 
of the peninsula by the Moors, and during that time twenty 
different emirs had swayed the sceptre of Moslem power 
in Spain. Bagdad was now struggling against Damascus ; 
and Spain was the theatre of unspeakable horrors, as two 
emirs there, each at the head of a powerful army, were 
fighting for the supremacy. Some of the more judicious 
of the sheiks, conscious of the ruin which this strife must 
secure, formed the plan to break away entirely from both the 
caliphs and to establish an independent monarchy in Spain. 
There was a fugitive prince, named Abderaman, who had 
escaped from the general massacre of his kindred in Da- 
mascus, and, through the wildest adventures, had reached 
Mauritania, in JSTorthern Africa. A deputation was sent to 
offer him the crown. The heroic prince, though fully in- 
formed of the difficulties and perils he must encounter, 
promptly accepted the proposal. 

"Noble deputies," said he, "I will unite my destiny 
with yours. I will go and fight with you. I fear neither 
adversity nor the dangers of war. If I am young, misfor- 
tune, I hope, has proved me, and never yet found me want- 

In the year 755, Abderaman, accompanied by seven 
hundred and fifty Moorish horsemen, young men who had 
enthusiastically espoused his cause, landed on the coast of 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 77 

Andalusia. He was received with general acclamations, 
and his march to Seville was a continued triumph. An 
army of twenty thousand now surrounded his banner. He 
advanced to Cordova, the Moorish capital. A terrific bat- 
tle was fought beneath its walls, and Cordova capitulated. 
A few more conflicts terminated the strife, and in less than 
a year Abderaman was in undisputed possession of Spain. 
He devoted himself with great energy to the promotion of 
the welfare of Spain, and especially to the beautifying of 
his capital of Cordova. He introduced the palm into the 
peninsula, and the amiability of his character is indicated 
by the exclamation he is said to have uttered when he first 
contemplated one of those Oriental trees in the garden of 
his palace. 

" Beautiful palm," said he, " thou art, like me, a stranger 
here. But th« western breezes kiss thy branches, thy roots 
strike into a fertile soil, and thy head rises into a pure 
sky. Like me, too, wouldst thou weep, if thou hadst the 
same cares. But thou fearest not the chances of evil to 
which I am exposed. Beautiful palm, thou canst not re- 
gret thy country." 

Though the Moorish monarchy was now established, 
peace was of but short duration. Conspiracies and insur- 
rections succeeded each other without intermission. But 
the royal arms were victorious, and, as the years advanced, 
the royal authority became more confirmed and extended. 
But a new foe suddenly appeared, menacing the Moorish 
king with peril greater than had as yet assailed him. 

The feeble Christian nation, cooped up in the moi 
of Asturias, Leon, and Catalonia, sent an embassage to 
Charlemagne, urging him to co-operate with them in driv- 
ing the Moors from Spain. They offered to recognize his 




78 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

feudal supremacy should success crown their efforts. 
Charlemagne dispatched a powerful army, in two columns^ 
through the defiles of the Pyrenees. The renowned mon- 
arch of the Franks, whose fame was filling the world, in 
person headed the division which penetrated Navarre. 
Pampeluna surrendered at his summons. Levelling the 
walls with the ground, he advanced to Saragossa, where he 
effected a junction with the other wing of his army, and 
the whole country from the Ebro to the Pyrenees acknowl- 
edged his supremacy. It is not improbable that he might 
have pressed on in his career of conquest until the whole 
of the peninsula had been brought into subjection to his 
sway, had not a revolt of the Saxons arrested him, and 
compelled him to retrace his steps. 

As Charlemagne retired, the troops of Abderaman ad- 
vanced, and again took possession of the country thus va- 
cated by the foe. Under the reign of Abderaman, Spain 
consisted of six great provinces — Toledo, Merida, Saragos- 
sa, Valencia, Granada, and Murcia. The king, as advanc- 
ing years admonished him that the close of his reign drew 
nigh, summoned the governors of these provinces, and 
other leading men, in council, and secured the nomination 
of his youngest and best-beloved son as his successor. By 
the virtues of his reign he merited the surname of The 
Just^ which was conferred upon him. From all Spain the 
Mohammedans made annual pilgrimages to Cordova, as the 
Oriental moslems were accustomed to repair to Mecca. He 
commenced a magnificent mosque, the remains of which, 
more than six hundred feet long and two hundred feet 
wide, and supported by three hundred columns of alabas- 
ter, jasper, and marble, still excite the admiration of every 
visitor. To this grand edifice there were twenty-four doors 



THE MOORISH INVASION. 79 

of bronze, covered with golden sculpture. The mosque 
was illumined every night by five thousand lamps. Ab- 
deraman, uniting in his own person both the civil and sa- 
cerdotal authority, regulated the ceremonies of the Moham- 
medan religion, which were celebrated at Cordova with the 
utmost pomp and magnificence. 

Though the Moorish sovereign sagaciously refrained 
from persecuting the Christians, he was the unrelenting foe 
of their faith. He encouraged marriages between the Moors 
and the Spaniards, and in various indirect ways success- 
fully opposed the advancement of Christianity. It is said / 
that he so far brought the Christians of Asturias into sub- 1 
jection to his sway, as to compel them to pay him abun--* 
dant tribute. It is a fact illustrative of the mental dark- 
ness and the social immorality of those times that a hun- 
dred beautiful Christian girls composed a portion of this 
tribute. After a brilliant reign of thirty years, Abderaman . 
died, A.D. 788, and his son Hixem succeeded to the crown. 

Though nearly all Spain hailed with acclamations the 
elevation of Hixem to the throne, his two elder brothers 
revolted, and at the head of an army of fifteen thousand 
men attempted the deposition of the king. After a few 
battles the rebellion was crushed, and the royal authority 
was effectually established. This success inspired the 
young monarch with new ambition, and he organized two 
expeditions, one for the entire subjugation of the Chris- 
tians in Asturias, and the other for the conquest of Gaul. 
In both enterprises he was unsuccessful. The Christians 
drove his troops, thoroughly beaten, out from their mount- 
ainous domain, and the army which penetrated Gaul, after 
advancing as far as Narbonne, plundering without mercy, 
met one of the armies of Charlemagne, before whom they 



80 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

were compelled to retreat precipitately, though they carried 
with them across the Pyrenees an immense amount of 
booty. 

These signal defeats proved a salutary lesson to Hixem, 
and he now devoted himself to the arts of peace. He thus 
won the gratitude of his subjects, and died universally la- 
mented, after a reign of but seven years, a.d. 796. His 
son Alhakem succeeded him. A fierce tempest instantly 
burst upon the young sovereign. His two uncles, with im- 
mense resources, rose in stern revolt, claiming the rights of 
primogeniture. At the same time the Franks invaded the 
northern provinces of his kingdom. The rebellious uncles 
were soon crushed. But the Spaniards of Asturias joined 
the Franks, and a long and bloody war ensued, with vary- 
ing success. Alhakem gradually developed a character of 
the most debasing licentiousness, and the most pitiless cru- 
elty. Tortured with the apprehension of assassination, the 
slightest suspicion doomed the suspected to death. Blood 
flowed in torrents, and the frown of the king caused all 
Cordova to tremble." He died, universally execrated, a.Dc 
821. 



THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 81 



CHAPTER TV. 

THE CONFLICT BETWEEN THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 

(From 821, A.D. to II18 A. D.) 

Peril of the Moorish Monarchy. — Growth of the Christian Kingdoms. — Invasion 
of the Norman Pirates. — Death of Mohammed, — Mooiish Insurrections. — 
The Reign of Caliphs. — Luxury of the Moorish Monarchs. — Splendors of 
Zarah. — Griefs of Abderaman. — The Challenge. — Battle of Soria. — Scenes 
of Anarchy. — Decline of Moorish Power. — Perfidy of Yussef. — His Conquest 
of Moorish Spain. 

ABDERAMAN II. ascended the throne of his detested 
father. His right to the sceptre was disputed by his 
uncle; but after a short yet sanguinary conflict, the king- 
quelled all opposition. This constant recurrence of civil 
■war to settle the right of succession induced the king to 
convene all the members of the royal family, and, with their 
united consent, to proclaim a law that the crown of Spain 
should henceforth be hereditary with the children of the 
sovereign, according to their primogeniture, and that, if 
there were no children, the crown should descend to the 
next nearest of kin. 

Many and formidable foes began now to press the Moor- 
ish monarchy. The Franks from Gaul were crowding 
down into Catalonia. The little Christian kingdom of As- 1 
turias was steadily extending its domain. Navarre had > 
become a Christian kingdom. The province of Aragon 
struck for independence. Thus nearly the whole of North- 
ern Spain had risen in armed opposition to the Moors. At 
the same time the Normans, in fifty -four vessels, spread ter- 

4* 



82 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ror along all tlie coasts of the peninsula. Wherever booty 
invited they landed, plundering towns and churches, com- 
mitting to the flames every thing which they could not re- 
move, gratifying their passions without restraint, and put- 
ting to the sword indiscriminately men, women, and chil- 
dren. Demons could not have perpetrated crimes more 
atrocious. They even attacked the city of Lisbon, contin- 
uing an incessant assault for thirteen days ; and they would 
probably have captured the city, had not an army been 
hastily dispatched by the king, which drove the pirates to 
their boats. They, however, re-embarking, continued their 
ravages along the coast, landing at every defenseless point 
where booty could be obtained. They boldly ascended 
the Guadalquiver, plundering and burning on both shores, 
and, advancing as far as Seville, destroyed the greater part 
of the city. Their reputation for fiend-like ferocity was 
such that neither Spaniard nor Moor ventured to annoy 
them on their retreat. 

The forays of these Korman pirates became so formida- 
ble that the Moorish sovereign constructed lines of fortress- 
es from the principal sea-ports to his capital, with facilities 
for rapid communication and transmission of intelligence 
between them. But, notwithstanding all these difficulties 
and perils, Abderaman II., with administrative ability rare- 
ly equalled, checked internal rebellion, repelled foreign 
foes, and promoted the prosperity of his kingdom by en- 
couraging all the arts of elegance and of industry. He fur- 
nished the poor with employment, embellished his capi- 
tal with edifices of great architectural beauty, paved the 
streets, constructed baths and aqueducts, and encouraged 
learning in all its branches by inviting to his court men of 
distinguished intellectual attainments from all lands. He 



THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 83 

devoted the most careful attention to tlie education of his 
sons, providing them with tutors of the greatest distinction, 
while, at the same time, he minutely superintended their 
studies himself. 

In accordance with the religion of Mohammed, Abdera- 
raan crowded his harem with the most voluptuous beauties 
of his kingdom. He died, universally regretted, in the 
year 852, leaving forty-five sons and forty daughters. His 
son, Mohammed L, ascended the throne. But he did not 
inherit his father's genius. The Christian realm of Astu- 
rias during his reign made rapid advances. By constant en- 
croachments, gaining step by step, the Christians wrested 
from the Moors, Leon, Old Castile, Estremadura, and a con- 
siderable portion of Lusitania. The reign of Mohammed I. 
presented but a constant series of disasters. His armies 
were defeated by the Christians. Civil war devastated his 
whole kingdom, calling into requisition his utmost energies 
to quell rebellion. Drought, and consequent famine, caused 
the death of thousands ; an earthquake overwhelmed sev- 
eral of his cities, burying multitudes beneath the ruins, and 
another invasion of the Normans spread dismay through- 
out all his coasts. 

One summer evening, Mohammed, surrounded with lux- 
ury, was sitting in one of the bowers of his garden, convers- 
ing with several of the members of his court. 

" How happy," exclaimed one of his courtiers, "is the 
condition of kings ! The pleasures of life were created ex- 
pressly for them. Delightful gardens, splendid palaces, 
boundless wealth, all the instruments of luxury — in short, 
every thing has been granted them by the decrees of fate." 

"The path of kings," replied the monarch, "is indeed, 
in appearance, strewed with flowers ; but thou seest not that 



84 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY, 

these roses have their thorns. And is it not the destiny of 
the mightiest prince to leave 'the world as naked as the poor- 
est peasant ? Our lives are in God's hands. But to the 
good the end of this life is the commencement of everlast- 
ing bliss." 

He retired to rest, and his lifeless body was found in 
the bed in the morning. In the darkness of the night, from 
a stroke of apoplexy, his spirit took its flight to the eternal 
world. 

Almoudhir, the eldest son of the departed king, succeed- 
ed to the thronCo But unanticipated rebellion was imme- 
diately developed, and the banners of revolt were unfurled 
from the battlements of Huesca, Saragossa, and Toledo. 
Marching at the head of his troops to suppress this rebel- 
lion, he fell upon the field of battle, and the sceptre of the 
Moorish kingdom passed into the hands of his brother Ab- 
dalla. But his own son headed a revolt against him. He 
was, however, defeated in a bloody battle, and his indignant 
father threw him, a captive, covered with wounds, into a 
dungeon, where he miserably perished. Still the rebels, 
under a renowned chieftain, Calib, maintained themselves 
against all the power of the crown. From their head-quar- 
ters at Toledo they not unfrequently sent into the field an 
army of sixty thousand men. 

During the whole of the reign of Abdalla this insurgent 
chieftain maintained his independence and his attitude of 
defiance. Abdalla was a virtuous prince, and his reign was 
beneficent. Upon his death, in the year 912, he set aside 
his own son, a dissolute young man, to whom he was un- 
willing to intrust the happiness of his people, and placed 
upon the throne Abderaman III., the child of that rebel 
son of the king who had perished in a dungeon. The vir- 



THE MOOES AND THE CHRISTIANS. 85 

tues of the new sovereign were so conspicuous in the eyes 
of the Mohammedans that they invested him with the sa- 
cred attributes of the caliph. He thus became the Pope of 
the Mohammedan Church of Spain, wielding the sceptre of 
both temporal and spiritual power. With great vigor the 
sovereign gathered up his strength to exterminate the auda- 
cious rebellion with which the kingdom had so long been 
distracted. After a long series of desperate and bloody 
battles he was successful, and the whole of Moorish Spain 
became subject to his sway. 

Abderaman now turned his arms against the Christians 
of Leon and Asturias. Kamiro II., then king of the Chris- 
tians, advanced to Madrid in the year 932, wrested the city 
from the Moors, and almost entirely demolished it. In re- 
venge, Abderaman sent an army into Galicia, where he in- 
flicted most terrible reprisals, plundering, ravaging, burning, 
slaying, and leading away into endless slavery many thou- 
sand captives. The Christians, no less ferocious than the 
Moslems, thus exasperated, rushed down the valley of the 
Ebro, through the heart of Aragon, as far as Saragossa, and 
laid siege to the city. They would have destroyed the place 
utterly, had not the governor capitulated, and joined his 
conquerors, acknowledging himself a feudatory of the King 
of Leon. At length the two hostile armies met, in great 
strength, on the plains which spread out between Zamora 
and Salamanca. The Christians under Eamiro were one 
hundred thousand strong. The Moors, under Abderaman, 
numbered eighty thousand. The battle which ensued was 
one of the most ferocious which had been fought for ages 
between the Moors and the Christians. Abderaman was 
defeated with terrible loss. During the continuation of the 
conflict, which was waged, with occasional lulls, for several 



86 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

years, the Christians gradually gained strength, and extend- 
ed their sway. 

The luxury of these Moorish monarchs, who gleaned 
the resources of an empire to give splendor to the cro^n, 
who doomed millions to destitution that a fairy -like sump- 
tuousness might surround their thrones, was very conspic- 
uous in the city of Zarah, which Abderaman built two 
miles from the city of 'Cordova, in honor of one of his favor- 
ite wives. The city was reared at the base of a mountain, 
from whence crystal streams meandered through all its 
streets, now spouting in jets of spray, now lingering and 
slumbering in mirrored basins. The houses, all built upon 
the same model, were surrounded by gardens and terraces, 
where trees from all climes spread their foliage, and where 
all shrubs of beauty and all flowers of fragrance were blend- 
ed in the highest artistic skill. The statue of Zarah, the 
king's beautiful favorite, was placed over the principal gate. 

But all the other glories of the city were eclipsed by the 
fairy -like palace reared for the favorite of the harem. The 
roof was supported by four thousand pillars of variegated 
marble. The floors and walls were of the same material, 
highly polished. The ceiling glittered with gold, and with 
burnished steel incrusted with the most precious gems. 
Countless crystal lustres illumined these apartments with 
almost celestial brilliance, the light flashing from mirrors, 
gems, and fountains, in a combination of splendor which a 
dream of fairy -land could hardly outvie. 

This palace was embowered in the midst of a garden, 
where the resources of Eastern and Western art were ex- 
hausted in multiplying the devices of luxury and delight. 
One is tempted to feel that such descriptions must be ex- 
aggerated, and that such recitals are merely Oriental tales. 



THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 87 

But these facts are well attested by many Arabian writers, 
and by travellers of unquestionable veracity. 

But the marble walls of Zarah could not shut out dis- 
appointment and grief from those gilded saloons and volup- 
tuous gardens. The human heart there, as everywhere 
else, experienced the doom that man is born to mourn. 
Abderaman's eldest son, Abdalla, grew up but to develop 
vice in its most hateful forms. The sorrowing father set 
him aside from the inheritance, and assigned the crown to 
his second son, Alhakem. Abdalla formed a conspiracy 
to assassinate his brother. The father, believing that there 
was no safety for Alhakem but in the death of Abdalla, 
ordered the guilty prince to be put to death. Alhakem 
plead for the life of his brother. 

" Thy humane request," replied the king, " becomes thee 
well. Were I a private individual, it should be granted. 
But as a king I owe, both to my successors and to my peo- 
ple, an example of justice. I deeply lament the fate of my 
son. I shall lament it through life. But neither thy tears 
nor my grief shall save him." 

The wretched youth was suffocated in the cell of his 
prison. But public opinion did not sustain the father in 
his severity. The conscience of the king soon condemned 
him for his extreme rigor, and he was seldom after seen to 
smile. Haojofard and woe-stricken, he wandered throuo^h 
the saloons of his palaces, exciting the pity even of the 
humblest of his courtiers. A few verses still remain, 
penned by the king, in which he gives utterance to his grief 
The following is a free translation : 

" The sorrows of a troubled heart will vent themselves 
in sighs. Can we be happy while the tempest rages? It 
has scattered my flowery vines, and how then can I be hap- 



88 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

py over the sparkling cup? Griory crowned my youth, 
but now she abandons me. The keen blasts of affliction 
have withered all my joys. My days of sunshine are past. 
Dark night approaches, with gloom which no morn will 
ever dissipate." 

The reign of Abderaman III. has been considered the 
most brilliant period in the history of the Moorish domin- 
ion in Spain. The kingdom made great strides in wealth ; 
public works of much grandeur were constructed ; a 
powerful navy was created, and all the arts of industry, 
fostered by the crown, rapidly advanced. But at the 
same time the Christian kingdom in the north-western 
part of Spain was also increasing in wealth, population, 
and power. 

Abderaman III. died in the year 961, and was succeed- 
ed by Alhakem 11. He was a young man of superior 
abilities, remarkably studious in his tastes, averse to war, 
and seeking for himself and for his subjects the joys of tran- 
quillity. He wrote personally to distinguished authors in 
all lands, and accumulated an immense library. During 
nearly the whole of his reign there was a truce between the 
Moors and the Christians of Castile and Leon. After a 
reign of twelve years, illustrated by many virtues, Alhakem 
died, and his son, Hixem II., ascended the throne. The 
regency was intrusted to a Moor by the name of Almansor, 
who, by the sagacity and vigor of his administration, gained 
great renown. He was very anxious to check the growth 
of the Christians, and waged incessant war against them. 
At one time the two armies met near the walls of Leon. 
As the soldiers on both sides were drawn out, in immense 
masses, in battle array, a Christian knight, magnificently 
mounted, and glittering. with coats of mail, rode from the 



THE MOOES AND THE CHRISTIANS. 91 

Spanish ranks and challenged any Moorish knight to meet 
him in single combat. 

After a short delay a Moor rode upon the plain. The 
conflict was soon terminated, as the spear of the Christian 
transfixed the Moor, and he fell lifeless from his horse. 
The victorious knight stripped his vanquished foe of his 
arms and, leading by the bridle the splendid steed of the 
Moor, returned to the Christian camp with these trophies 
of his victory. He was greeted with enthusiastic shouts, 
which burst from the Christian lines. 

Again mounting a fresh horse, he advanced from the 
ranks of his friends, and again challenged the whole Moor- 
ish army to send him a combatant. Another Moslem rode 
out to meet him, and encountered the fate of his predeces- 
sor. The triumphant shouts of the Christians caused the 
Moslems almost to foam with rage. A third time the con- 
quering knight appeared. There was now delay in the 
Moorish camp, that their most powerful warrior might be 
selected. 

" Why do ye loiter?" shouted the Christian knight. " I 
am ready to meet you all, one by one. And, if that does 
not please you, come two at once." 

An Andalusian chief, mounted upon an Arabian charger, 
now left the ranks, and advanced to encounter the knia-ht. 
He also fell, stricken by a mortal blow, and was conveyed 
by his victor, a fainting, dying captive, into the Spanish 
camp. A fourth time he returned, and threw his challenge 
into the face of the whole Moslem host. 

There was no one who ventured now to accept it. The 
knight rode to and fro, with many a jeer and taunt, till 
Almansor, the regent, exclaimed, 

'' I can bear this dishonor no longer. Hear his insult- 



92 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ing bravadoes. If there is no one else who will accept his 
challenge, I will go myself." 

One of the most renowned of the Moorish generals said, 
" I will go," and, spurring his horse, galloped out upon the 
plain. The Christian, haughty in chivalric and ancestral 
pride, keenly eyed his antagonist for a moment, and said, 

" Who and what art thou ?" 

" This spear," exclaimed Mustapha, shaking his lance, 
" is my title of nobility." 

The duel immediately commenced. It was long and 
fiercely contested. But this time the fortune of war de- 
cided against the Christian. By a skillful thrust, the 
Moor, who was the better mounted of the two, pierced the 
armor of his antagonist, and the victor in three conflicts 
now reeled from his saddle and fell, severely wounded, to 
the ground. The Moor cut off his head, and returned with 
the spoils to Almansor. 

With shouts which rent the skies, the two armies now 
rushed upon each other. Both parties fought with all the 
courage which implacable rage could inspire. At the close 
of a bloody day each claimed the victory, and each retired, 
exhausted and bleeding, from the tremendous blows it had 
received. Campaign succeeded campaign, fruitful in all 
the miseries of war, and, in general, disastrous to the Chris- 
tians. The Moors captured several important cities, wrest- 
ed from the Christians wide portions of their territory, and 
overran and laid waste the whole of Gralicia. The bells of 
the churches were sent to Cordova to be melted into lamps 
for the Moslem mosques. Still the march of the Moors 
was, in general, one of plunder rather than of conquest. 
As they retired with their booty, the Christians, issuing 
from their mountain fastnesses, returned to their homes. 



THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 93 

rebuilding their demolished cities and planting again their 
devastated fields. 

There were now three independent governments of the 
Christians in the north of Spain : that of Leon, of Navarre, 
and of Castile. These governments were generally in alli- 
ance when pressed by the Moors, but were almost invari- 
ably fighting against each other when not menaced with 
Moslem invasion. Almansor, encouraged by his wonder- 
ful successes, made preparation for the utter extermination 
of these Christian powers, and for the extension of the 
Moslem sway over entire Spain. The Christians, thus im- 
perilled, entered into an alliance to resist the foe. 

In two immense armies, the Moors ascended the upper 
waters of the Douro in the mountainous heart of Spain. 
At a short distance from the city of Soria Almansor came 
in sight of the encampment of the allied army of the Chris- 
tians. Their tents spread far and wide over the plain, in- 
dicating the presence of a much more formidable force 
than the Moors had expected to encounter. The battle 
commenced at break of day, and ceased not until the last 
ray of evening twilight had disappeared. The conflict ex- 
tended over a region so extensive that neither of the gen- 
erals was fully conscious of the successes or the disasters 
which had attended his battalions. 

Almansor retired to his tent, anxious to hear from his 
lieutenants the results of the day. One after another came 
in with the most dismal tidings of the slaughter which had 
been effected in their ranks. The loss was so appalling 
that Almansor, chagrined beyond expression, ordered an 
immediate midnight retreat. The Moorish chieftain was 
so heart-stricken by this blow, that on the retreat, refusing 
all consolation and even nourishment, he pined away and 



94 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

died. "With the death of this illustrious prince, the Moor- 
ish sway in Spain began rapidly to decline. In a despotic 
government, where there is no constitution and no written 
laws, every thing depends upon the character of the sove- 
reign. As there are nb established institutions to fall 
back upon, the loss of a sagacious and energetic ruler is 
fatal to the State unless it so happen that another strong 
man succeed him. Hixem, the nominal sovereign, was so 
imbecile that his name is rarely mentioned. Almansor 
had thus far been the real monarch of the realm. Soon 
conspiracies began to be organized. Eival chieftains plot- 
ted to eject the impotent Hixem from the throne, and to 
grasp his sceptre. 

A Moorish general, at the head of a successful insurrec- 
tion, seized the king, thrust him into an obscure fortress, 
where he was incarcerated in a dungeon, and the report 
was circulated that he was dead. Even his funeral was 
solemnized, a dead body, strongly resembling the person 
of the king, being placed in the cofl&n. The usurper, Mo- 
hammed, had hardly taken possession of the palaces of 
Cordova ere another chieftain, Suleyman, leading an army 
of Moors from Africa, crossed the Straits of Gibraltar, pur- 
chased the co-operation of the Christians by promising to 
surrender to them some of the northern fortresses, over- 
threw the usurper in a bloody and decisive battle, and en- 
tering Cordova in triumph, took possession of the throne. 
Mohammed fled, rallied another army, returned to Cor- 
dova defeated his rival in a sanguinary fight, and again 
grasped the sceptre, which had been by violence wrested 
from his hands. But soon again Suleyman appeared at 
the head of another vast army, and, encamping before the 
walls of Cordova, laid siege to the city. 



THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 95 

In the midst of these scenes of confusion and blood, 
Hixem escaped from his dungeon, and, like an apparition 
from the dead, presented himself before his party. The 
fickle people, who had before despised him, now rushed 
to his banner. They seized Mohammed, cut off his head, 
and threw it into the camp of Suleyman. The insurgent 
chieftain still pressed the siege against Hixem. By aid 
of recruits from Africa he stormed the city. Hixem was 
slain in the horrible tumult, and again Suleyman ascended 
the throne. After maintaining his hold upon the palaces 
of Cordova for a few months by the energies of his bloody 
sabre, another Moorish chieftain from Africa, by the name 
of Ali, greedy for the dignity and the spoils of sovereignty, 
marched upon Cordova, took Suleyman a captive, cut off 
his head, and seized the crown. 

But a few months passed away ere the ofl&cers of the 
household of Ali drowned him in his bathing- tub, and their 
leader, Alcassem, snatched up the falling diadem. He had 
but just placed it upon his brow, when conspirators, with 
their gleaming poniards, rushed into his palace^ and Alcas- 
sem, after seeing all his guard struck down, escaped with 
the utmost difficulty from the city in disguise. Abdera- 
man Y. now grasped the sceptre of that Moorish empire of 
Spain, which civil war and anarchy were rapidly crum- 
bling into fragments. He endeavored to promote some 
reforms. The exasperated, nobles broke into his palace, 
pierced him with more sabre-thrusts than could be count- 
ed, and, wiping their bloody weapons, placed the sceptre in 
the hands of one of their number, Mohammed II. 

After a reign of seventeen months, Mohammed II. was 
poisoned, and by a part of the chieftains the crown was of- 
fered to Yahia. He accepted it, and marching to crush the 



96 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

insurgents wlio rose against his sway, was drawn into an 
ambuscade and slain. The city of Cordova chose Hixemftl. 
as their sovereign. He was a very worthy man in private 
life, and manifested no little nervousness in view of accept- 
ing so perilous a gift as the Moorish crown. The Christians 
were now making rapid encroachments. They had over- 
run the whole of the north of what is now called Portugal, 
and were crowding down even into New Castile. Hixem III., 
instead of remaining in Cordova, where he would be almost 
sure to encounter assassination, placed himself at the head of 
his armies, and marched to the north to assail the Christians. 

For three years there was a struggle, not very fiercely 
waged, in which neither party gained any decisive advan- 
tage. At length the king, leaving his troops, returned to 
Cordova. The mob rose against him, and parading the 
streets with banners and arms, demanded his deposition. 
The king, not unwilling so easily to escape from the perils 
of royalty, renounced the throne and retired to private life, 
where he was left to die in peace. His memory, however, 
is cherished in the Moorish annals with great veneration, 
and he is eulogized by all pens as one of the most humane 
and unselfish of kings. 

The Moorish kingdom in Spain was now effectually 
broken into fragments. The governors of the different 
provinces assumed the sovereignty over their several do- 
mains, and thus the realm was filled with petty kings, often 
contending against each other. In the short space of thir- 
ty years the Moorish kingdom had fallen beyond redemp- 
tion. The Christians, who had been driven into an obscure 
corner of the country, were now in possession of two-thirds 
of the peninsula. History can hardly present a parallel to 
a fall so sudden and so astounding. 



THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 97 

The governors of each of the leading cities of Spain as- 
sumed independence, and each one became a petty king, ex- 
tending his sway from his fortress over the immediately 
adjacent villages. The inhabitants of Cordova chose for 
their king Gehwan, a chief of much renown for political sa- 
gacity and military power. Instructed by the calamities 
which had overwhelmed his predecessors, Gehwan selected 
a council of the most respectable citizens, and took no im- 
portant step without their concurrence. He assumed the 
position merely of president of the council, casting his sin- 
gle vote with the rest, and thus his government assumed 
the character of a republic. Though he resided in the gor- 
geous palaces of the caliphs, he laid aside very much of the 
pomp of royalty. His undivided energies were devoted 
to the promotion of the comfort and the elevation of 
the people; but all his efforts to induce the governors 
of the other cities, who had assumed the independence 
of kings, to take the oath of allegiance to him, were un- 
availing. 

The alliances, battles, annexations, and partitions which 
ensued among these rival kings are no longer worthy of 
record. For a season they filled Spain with woe, and made 
life to millions a burden. The King of Seville had twenty- 
five towns subject to his jurisdiction. Emulating the splen- 
dor of the caliphs, he surrounded his throne with all the 
pageantry he could command, and filled his harem with 
eight hundred of the most beautiful females to be found in 
his dominions. Gradually, with his arms, he overran all 
the south of Andalusia. Granada was annexed to his do- 
main. Flushed with this military success, he resolved to 
extend his sway over the renowned city of Cordova. The 
King of Cordova was then fighting against the King of To- 

5 



98 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ledo, a city on the Tagus one hundred and fifty miles north, 
in the heart of New Castile. 

The arms of Cordova had just encountered a disastrous 
defeat, and the victorious battalions of Toledo were besieg- 
ing the ancient Moorish capital. From a bed of sickness 
and pain Mohammed, the King of Cordova, arose, and, fly- 
ing to Seville, implored the aid of its king. With the 
most hypocritical avowal of friendship, Almoateded, the 
King of Seville, sent an army, which, uniting with the 
citizens of Cordova, utterly routed the beleaguering foe. 
Almoateded, thus introduced into the city as a friend, seized 
all the important posts, and thrusting the king and his son 
into a dungeon, proclaimed himself sovereign of Cordova. 
The royal captives soon died in grief and despair. The 
fickle people received the usurper with acclamations. He 
dazzled them by his magnificence, and purchased their 
favor with immense largesses. The whole of Andalusia, 
with Cordova for its capital, thus passed under the sway of 
Almoateded. But man is born to mourn, and the conquer- 
or in his pride has no protection against earth's calamities. 
Death entered the palace, and a beautiful, idolized daughter 
of the king was borne to the tomb. The bereavement 
broke the heart of the father, and, after a few months of 
gloom and tears, his body was deposited in the grave by 
the side of that of his child. 

Mohammed, the son and successor of Almoateded, added 
Murcia and Yalencia to the realms which he had inherited 
from his father. Thus the kingdom of Andalusia became 
far more powerful than that of any other of the petty 
Moorish kings of Spain. It embraced a domain about two 
hundred and fifty miles in length, and one hundred and 
seventy in width, containing about one million inhabitants. 



THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 99 

The Christian kings in the north, led by the most power- 
ful of their number, Alfonso, King of Leon, availing them- 
selves of these conflicts among the Moors, pressed down 
into New Castile, conquering and annexing, until they ar- 
rived before the walls of Toledo. After a siege of three 
years, the city was compelled to c^itulate. On the 25th 
of May, 1085, Alfonso, the Christian king, took possession 
of the ancient capital of his Gothic ancestors. The Moors 
had held the city 874 years. The Christians had now re- 
gained more than two-thirds of the whole territory of Spain. 
All of New Castile was now in their hands, and both banks 
of the Tagus to the ocean. The Moorish kings of Badajoz, 
of Saragossa, and of several other cities, were compelled to 
pay tribute to the Christians. 

All the Moorish kings were terrified. The sovereign of 
Andalusia endeavored to form a coalition of all the Moslem 
cities against the Christians. But those who were within 
easy reach of the armies of Alfonso were afraid to invite 
the attack of a foe so formidable, and who had already de- 
stroyed the thrones of so many of their brethren. In this 
dilemma, Mohammed, the Andalusian king, assembled two 
or three of the neighboring potentates at Seville, and, after 
anxious deliberation, it was decided to appeal for aid to a 
celebrated Moorish conqueror in Africa, who, with legions 
apparently invincible, had overrun nearly all the northern 
provinces of that continent. The fierce chieftain, whose 
scimeter they were thus summoning to their aid, had 
trampled remorselessly upon all those stages which had been 
swept by his wolfish bands. The son of Mohammed ven- 
tured to remonstrate with his father against inviting into 
his realms a despot so powerful and so unscrupulous. 

" This Yussef," said he, " who has subdued all whom he 



100 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

has approached, will serve us as he has served the people 
of Almagreb and Mauritania. He will expel us from our 
country and assume the sovereignty for himself." 

" Any thing," rejoined the father, " rather than that An- 
dalusia should become the prey of the Christians. Dost 
thou wish that the Mussulmans should curse me ? I would 
rather be the driver of Yussef 's camels, than be a king trib- 
utary to these Christians dogs. But my trust is in Allah." 

At the head of a mighty armament, Yussef, leaving to 
a regent the care of his vast empire in Africa, landed on 
the coast of Spain. Alfonso, King of Leon, was besieging 
the city of Saragossa, in the heart of Aragon, when he re- 
ceived tidings of the disembarkation. Yussef encamped his 
army on the banks of the Guadiana, upon an extensive 
plain between Badajoz and Merida. In accordance with 
the Moslem custom, he sent a message to the Christian king, 
commanding him either to embrace the faith of the Prophet 
or to pay a heavy annual tribute. 

Alfonso took the letter from the envoy, read it deliber- 
ately, and then, tearing it into fragments, trampled it be- 
neath his feet. Turning to the messenger, he said, 

" Go tell thy master what thou hast seen. Tell him not 
to hide himself on the field of battle, and I will soon meet 
him face to face." 

Descending rapidly the valley of the Tagus, with a nu- 
merous army, Alfonso crossed to the valley of the Guadi- 
ana, and in April, 1086, arrived in sight of the Moorish 
banners. A terrible battle ensued. Both armies fought 
with valor and skill equal to their renown. At the close 
of the bloody day nearly fifty thousand lay dead upon the 
plain. Each army had suffered equally, and neither was 
prepared to renew the strife on the morrow. Alfonso was 



THE MOORS AND THE CHRISTIANS. 101 

severely wounded, and in tlie night ordered a retreat, which 
the foe did not attempt to disturb. Yussef, probably dis- 
appointed in encountering a more formidable foe than he had 
expected to meet, soon after returned to Africa, intrusting 
the command of his army to Syr, one of the most able of 
his generals. New Moorish recruits were sent over from 
Africa, while the Christians replenished their diminished 
ranks, and for several campaigns the billows of war surged 
to and fro with no decisive results. 

At length Yussef, despairing of conquering the Chris- 
tians, resolved to annex to his African empire all the Moor- 
ish-kingdoms in Spain. He landed again in person, in 
command of a powerful army. He first seized Menada, 
then Malaga, and now, totally regardless of the rights of 
the Andalusian king, Ali, traversed his realms with the 
strides of a conqueror. In his despair, Mohammed sent to 
the Christian king, Alfonso, soliciting an alliance. But be- 
fore any effectual aid could reach him, Seville was captured 
by Yussef, and Mohammed, with all his family, were sent 
in chains to Africa. The king, in this his terrible fall, dis- 
played great fortitude and resignation. 

" My children," said he, " let us learn submissively to 
bear our griefs. In this life joys are but loaned us, to be 
resumed when Heaven wills. Sorrow and gladness suc- 
ceed each other ; but the truly noble heart rises superior to 
the reverses of fortune." 

With inhumanity which must forever disgrace the char- 
acter of Yussef, the King of Andalusia was thrown into a 
prison at Agmat, where he lingered in extreme penury and 
suffering for four years, until he died. His children, in 
utter destitution, were thrown loose upon the world, and 
even his daughters were compelled to earn their dail}^ 



102 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

bread by the labor of their own hands. One after another, 
nearly all the petty kingdoms of Moorish Spain fell into 
the hands of the conqueror, they having maintained them- 
selves about sixty years. 

For some years after the accession of Yussef there was 
peace between the Christians and the Moors. Toledo be- 
came the prominent fortress of the Christian powers. The 
Christians in Spain, disregarding their foes near at home, 
devoted all their energies to the Crusades for the recovery 
of the Holy Land. Yussef adopted Cordova as the capital 
of his Spanish possessions. He died at Morocco, at the ad- 
vanced age of ninety-seven in the year 1106. He was suc- 
ceeded by his son Ali, a young man but twenty-three 
years of age. 

f Moorish Spain was now but a province, or rather a sub- 
ject kingdom, of the great African empire. One of the first 
acts of Ali was to visit Cordova and declare war against 
the Christians. He intrusted the command of the army to 
his brother Temim. Again wretched Spain was devastated 
by the sweep of hostile armies. There were battles and 
sieges and conflagrations, with violence and woe in every 
form the imagination can conceive. Though with many 
ebbs and floods, the tide of fortune gradually set in favor 
of the Christians. Saragossa, in the year 1118, fell into 
their hands, and, with the loss of that important city, the 
whole of Northern Spain was forever freed from the do- 
minion of the Moors. 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 103 



CHAPTER V. 

SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 

{From 1118 A.D. to 1369 a.d.) 

Contentions of African and Spanish Moors. — The Kingdoms of Castile, Leon, and 
Portugal. — Navan'e becomes a Kingdom. — Degeneracy of the Christians. — Il- 
lustrious Moors. — Terrible Battle of Toloza. — Cordova wrested from the IMoors. 
— The Moorish Kingdom of Granada. — Capture of Seville. — Granada tributa- 
rj' to Castile. — General Embroilment. — Illustrative Anecdotes. — Decisive Bat- 
tle of Tarifa. — Declension of the Moors. — The Three Peters. — Desolate Con- 
dition of the World. 

THE Spanish Moors and the African Moors were now 
devouring each other. They had never pleasantly 
commingled, for the Africans were far more uncultivated 
and savage than their brethren of the peninsula. The 
fierce warriors of the desert regarded with contempt the 
domestic habits and luxurious indulgences of the inhab- 
itants of Spain. There were at this time several rival 
chieftains struggling for the sovereignty in Africa, and the 
whole Moorish empire there was in such a state of distrac- 
tion that the affairs of Spain were for a time quite forgot- 
ten^ Alfonso, King of Aragon, defiantly made a tour 
tm-ough Andalusia, plundering and destroying. He car- 
ried his victorious banners even to the shores of the Med- 
iterranean. The Moors ventured not to meet him in the 
open field, but shut themselves up in their fortresses. Al- 
fonso, in accordance with the savage customs of the times, 
carried back with him, as trophies of his triamph, a large 
number of prisoners, whom he settled in the vicinity of 



104 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Saragossa. At length Alfonso, who had acquired a sort of 
imperial authority over the several smaller Christian king- 
doms of Spain, died. 

About the same time Abdelmumen, one of the rival 
kings in Africa, obtained the entire ascendency in that 
country. He formed the plan of reconquering Spain. Pro- 
claiming a holy war, he summoned the children of the 
Prophet in all lands to rally for the defense and the exten- 
sion of the Mohammedan faith. All the fierce tribes of 
Western and Northern Africa were immediately on the 
march. He had assembled an enormous force, consisting, 
it is said, of one hundred thousand horse and three hun- 
dred thousand foot, on the African side of the Straits of 
Gribraltar, and was upon the eve of crossing to the Spanish 
coast, when death summoned him to the world of spirits. 

His son Yussef, who succeeded to the throne, for some 
unknown reason dismissed the army, and for several years 
devoted himself to the arts of peace. But in the year 1170, 
with a formidable military array, he crossed the straits, and 
brought the whole of Moorish Spain into subjection to his 
sway. Thus the Moors of Spain and of Africa were again 
united under one common empire. For nearly a century 
the Moors and the Spaniards had been engaged in almost 
constant warfare, with no very decisive advantage gained 
by either party. There had now arisen in the northern 
and central portions of Spain several small Christian king- 
doms, among the most prominent of which were Leon, Cas- 
tile, and Aragon. These kingdoms were almost constantly 
engaged in wars against each other. By uniting, they 
could easily have driven the Moors out of Spain. But the 
slightest victory over the common foe led to a conflict be- 
tween themselves for the spoil. 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 105 

The kings of Castile and Leon united their forces, and 
wrested the whole of the region now called Portugal from 
the Moors, and placed over it, as count and governor, the 
son of the French Duke of Burgundy, who had married the 
daughter of Alphonso VI. of Castile. About the year 
lltl:5 this realm assumed the dignity of a kingdom, taking 
the name of Portugal from its prominent harbor of Oporto. 
Navarre also emerged into a kingdom, about as large as 
the State of Massachusetts, extending across the Pyrenees 
into France. All these kingdoms, called Christian, were 
devouring each other, when not struggling against the 
Moors. Though there were doubtless, at this time, indi- 
viduals somewhat enlightened in the Christian faith, and 
living in obedience to the precepts of our Saviour, still the 
masses of the people were in heart heathen. Christianity 
was to them rnerely a superstition, requiring certain exter- 
nal observances, while it exerted no perceptible influence 
over their lives. The degraded masses, at scarcely one re- 
move from barbarism, were Christians in the same sense in 
which the crew of an English man-of-war or the rank and 
file of a French or Austrian army are Christians. 

In the wars between the Moors and the Christians we 
can discern but very little evidence of any moral principle 
on either side. Indeed many of the Moorish princes give 
more indication of the spirit of Christ than many of those 
princes who assumed the Christian name. But Christianity 
must bear the reproach of having those called Christians 
who compose the heathenism of a Christian land, or who 
defend " The Church " simply as an instrument of super- 
stition with which to extend the sway of pride and power. 

Among the Moors there were some men of high moral 
worth and intellectual culture, who deserve honorable no- 

5* 



106 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

tice. One of these, Averroes, was a fine Greek scholar. 
He translated the works of Aristotle into Arabic, and wrote 
valuable commentaries upon them. As a philosopher, a 
physician, and a man of literary accomplishments, he at- 
tained wide-spread renown. Though nominally a Moham- 
medan, he had no faith in the Moslem delusion. Some of 
his observations upon the religion of the Prophet excited 
the hostility of the Moslem priests, and he was arraigned 

^as a heretic before their Inquisition. The punishment in- 
/ flicted was worthy of the darkest days of the Papal Church. 

'\^He was sentenced to do homage. at the door of the mosque, 

("while every true Mussulman, who came there to pray for 
his conversion, was to spit in his face. He bore patiently 

\the infliction, merely repeating the words, " Let me die the 
death of the philosopher." 

One incident may be mentioned illustrative of the char- 
acter of the Spanish kings of that day. Yacub, who suc- 
ceeded Yussef in the sovereignty of the Moorish empire in 
Africa, landed in Spain with an immense army and invaded 
Yalencia. Alfonso, king of Castile, hastened to meet him. 
To resist this formidable invasion, he had entered into an al- 
liance both with the King of Leon and of ISTavarre. But be- 
fore the arrival of his allies he attacked the Moors, and was 
thoroughly beaten by them, with the loss of twenty thou- 
sand men. On his disastrous retreat, he met his allies ad- 
vancing to his aid. In his exasperation, he reproached them 
so insultingly for not arriving sooner that they both, in 
high dudgeon, withdrew their troops, and commenced a 
march back to their own kingdoms. Whereupon the King 
of Castile, though retreating before the pursuing Moors, 
made a ferocious and deadly assault upon the columns both 
of the Kings of Leon and of Navarre. Fortunately for him, 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 107 

his clergy interfered to arrest these measures of madness, 
and, in view of the tremendous peril impending, secured a 
reconciliation. The united force then turned upon the foe, 
and the tide of Moorish invasion was thus arrested. 

By the marriage, which soon followed, of the son of the 
King of Leon with the daughter of the King of Castile, the 
two crowns became united in their son Fernando. In the 
year 1211, Mohammed of Africa, son of Yacub, invaded 
Spain with an enormous army, which, joined by the Span- 
ish Moors, amounted, it is said, to six hundred thousand 
men. The King of Castile, Alfonso the Noble, applied to 
all the courts of Christian Europe for aid. Pope Innocent 
III. proclaimed a crusade, and lavished indulgences upon 
all those who should engage in this Holy War. From all 
parts of Europe the crusaders flocked to Toledo, in the 
heart of Castile, the head-quarters of the Christian armies. 
Sixty thousand troops from Italy and France were soon 
assembled there, in conjunction with the Castilian forces. 
Aragon, Navarre, and Portugal also dispatched large armies 
to the scene of conflict. 

In July 1212, these two immense armies met at Toloza, 
on the southern declivity of the mountains which separate 
Andalusia from Castile. Of the memorable battle which 
ensued, detailed accounts are given by four eye-witnesses. 
The Christians, in preparation for the dreadful strife, passed 
two days in religious exercises. Hymns were chanted, 
banners blessed, prayers offered, and the sacrament of the 
Lord's Supper administered. On the morning of the 16th, 
the Christians, who had been advantageously posted upon 
the summits of the mountains, descended into the plains, 
where the Moors were assembled in tumultuous masses 
which could not well be counted The right wing was led 



108 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

by the King of Navarre, the left by the King of Aragon, 
and the centre by the King of Castile. 

•For many hours the result of the battle was doubtful, 
as over the vast plain nearly two hundred thousand horse- 
men and more than half a million of foot-soldiers, with 
spear and arrow and battle-axe, rushed upon each oth- 
er, and, with clash of weapon and shriek of onset, writhed 
in the death-grapple. Mohammed stood upon a mound 
commanding a view of the field. He was surrounded by 
a powerful reserve, and also protected by a vast iron chain. 
As the afternoon wore away, it was manifest that the Chris- 
tians were gaining the victory. The plain was covered 
with the dead, and the Moors were flying in all directions. 
The three divisions of the Christian army, combining, 
rushed impetuously upon the eminence where Mohammed 
in the midst of a dense mass of his troops, was almost fran- 
ticly endeavoring to restore the lost battle. One of his staff 
rushed to his side, leading a mule of remarkable strength 
and fleetness. 

" Prince of the faithful," said he, " how long wilt thou 
remain here? Dost thou not perceive that thy Mussulmans 
flee ? The will of Allah be done. Mount this mule, which 
is fleeter than the bird of heaven, or even the arrow which 
strikes it. Never yet did she fail her rider. Away ! for 
on thy safety depends that of us all." 

Mohammed, accompanied by a few of his followers, was 
soon beyond the sight and the sound of the dreadful car- 
nage, which surged over the field until the last ray of light 
disappeared. The victors took possession of the tents of 
the Mohammedans, with all the riches they contained. 
The prelates, who in great numbers had accompanied the 
army, chanted Te Peums in gratitude for the greatest vie- 



SPAIN A B\TTLE-FIELD. 109 

tory the Christians had gained over the Moors since the 
days of Charles Martel. The Moors admit that they lost 
in this decisive battle one hundred and sixty thousand 
men. The Christians claim that they slew two hundred 
thousand. From this battle is to be dated the ruin of the 
Moslem Empire in Spain. 

The allies returned in triumph to Toledo. The Moor- 
ish Emperor fled to Morocco, where he sought solace for 
his military disgrace in abandoning himself to licentious 
pleasures. But a few months elapsed ere he died, proba- 
bly of poison. Yussef, who succeeded him, was a boy but 
eleven years of age. The Moorish governor of Spain 
availed himself of the weak reigns which ensued to usurp 
independence of the African Empire. Ferdinand III., King 
of Leon and Castile, a kingdom which thus united em- 
braced nearly one -third of Spain, pressed the Moors se- 
verely, and rapidly encroached upon their territory of An- 
dalusia. 

The city of Cordova possessed a sacred character in the 
eyes of the Mohammedans. Here rose the domes and min- 
arets of their renowned mosque, and here their caliphs had 
swayed the sceptre of both temporal and spiritual power. 
Bitter was the chagrin of the Moors when this renowned 
capital, in the year 1234, fell into the hands of the Chris- 
tians. Mohammedan Spain was now in a deplorable state. 
The Moors of Africa were so weakened by bloody civil 
feuds that they could no longer send expeditions across the 
straits, and the Spanish Moors were seriously threatened 
with expulsion from the peninsula. 

Granada became now the capital of the Moslem power, 
and nearly all the Mohammedans, abandoning the provinces 
which the Christians had wrested from them, assembled on 



110 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

the plains of Granada, and combining tlieir strength, resist- 
ed for two and a half centuries all th.e efforts of the Chris- 
tians to drive them from their strongholds. 

Mohammed Ben Alhamar was the founder of this cele- 
brated kingdom of Granada. He was, in all respects, an 
illustrious man — an energetic warrior, and yet a lover of 
the arts of peace. He was fond of that splendor which 
dazzles the eyes of an unlettered people, singularly saga- 
cious and comprehensive in his views, impartial in the ad- 
ministration of justice, and anxious to secure the good- will 
of his subjects by the beneficence of his reign. 

The little kingdom of Granada, into which the vast 
Moorish, empire of Spain had dwindled, was two hundred 
miles long and forty wide, containing about as much, terri- 
tory as the State of Massachusetts. But by the consti- 
tution of the government every male inhabitant was a sol- 
dier, and the defense of his country was one of the most 
imperative duties enjoined upon th.e Moor by his religion. 
Fernando, the King of Castile, with a well-appointed army, 
invaded Granada and laid siege to the strong fortress of 
Jaen, which, commanded the frontiers. The Moorish king 
marched to the relief of his fortress, but was utterly routed 
and driven back behind the ramparts of Granada. For a 
year Fernando prosecuted the siege, and just as the fortress 
was falling into his hands, Ben Alhamar, conscious that 
the next step would be the siege of his capital, and that 
he could not make successful resistance, adopted the follow- 
ing extraordinary measure. 

He proceeded alone, and in disguise, to the camp of Fer- 
nando, obtained an interview witb him, and then, announc- 
ing his name, offered to become the vassal of the Castilian 
crown, and kissed the hand of the Christian king in token 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. Ill 

of feudal homage. Fernando was capable of appreciating 
the confidence which the Moor had reposed in his honor. 
He embraced him as a friend and an ally, and the two 
kings sat side by side in friendly communion, adjusting 
the measures of their futuye policy. Jaen was surrendered 
to Fernando, an annual tribute was also to be paid to him, 
and a stipulated number of Moorish horsemen to be fur- 
nished him whenever he called for their services. The 
Moorish king was also bound, like other feudatories, to at- 
tend the Cortes of the Christian kinoxlom. In return, Ben 
Alhamar was allowed to retain his possessions unmolested, 
and was placed on the footing of cordial friendship with 
the Castilian king. But for this arrangement Ben Alha- 
mar's kingdom would have been overrun, and he would 
have been driven into exile. 

The King of Castile was soon in possession of both sides 
of the Guadalquiver from Jaen to the mouth. In the cap- 
ture of Seville, which was held by Moors from Africa, Ben 
Alhamar was compelled to aid the King of Castile in per- 
son, with six hundred horsemen. After fifteen months of 
blood, famine, and misery, Seville surrendered, a.d. 1248. 
By the treaty of capitulation, the Moorish inhabitants were 
allowed to leave the city if they wished, taking with them 
their property. Three hundred thousand abandoned the 
city, most of whom took refuge with their brethren of 
Granada. In the month of December Fernando made a 
triumphal entry into the magnificent city of Seville. In 
gorgeous procession he entered the grand mosque, which 
the Christian prelate immediately purified and, in the cele- 
bration of a pontificial high mass, dedicated to the service 
of the Papal Church. Soon after this all the Mohamme- 
dans were expelled from the rich and beautiful provinces 



112 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of Valencia and Seville. The Moorish king received them 
kindly in Granada, assigning to them lands, and exempting 

. them from taxation for several years. 
"^ Alhamar was overwhelmed with grief. He was com- 
pelled to purchase the existence of his own kingdom by 
aiding the Christians to wage war against his own country- 
men. All the other Moorish kingdoms of Spain were now 
absorbed by the Christians, and Granada alone remained, 
having lost its independence in feudal vassalage to Fer- 
nando of Castile. Conscious that the strength of a king- 
dom consists in the prosperity and wealth of its citizens, 
with much sagacity Alhamar devoted himself to the pro- 
motion of the welfare of his subjects. He established hos- 
pitals for the sick, houses of entertainment for travellers, 
schools and colleges. Eoads, bridges, and warehouses were 
constructed, and all the arts of industry were encouraged. 
Christians and Mohammedans were treated with equal jus- 
tice ; and with untiring diligence all the departments of 
the administration were watched, that equal justice might 
be meted out to all. 

'-^' This Moorish king, six hundred years ago, administered 
his absolute government, if reliance can be placed in the 
testimony of ancient annals, upon the principles subse- 
quently avowed in the Declaration of American Independ- 
ence. In the eye of the law all men were regarded as 
equal, and alike entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of 
happiness. The taxes were necessarily heavy ; but they 
were borne without a murmur, for they were imposed with 
the strictest impartiality. Men are ever willing to surren- 
der a portion of their natural liberty, if all surrender alike. 
But when one portion of the community is entitled to 
privileges which are withheld from another, then an irre- 



SPAIN A BATTLEFIELD. 113 

pressible conflict is excited, wliicli invariably leads to in- 
surrection and blood. 

While Fernando lived there was peace between him and 
Alhamar, his feudal vassal, and the little Moorish kingdom 
of Granada enjoyed eminent prosperity. After the death 
of Fernando, the crown passed to his son, Alfonso. In the 
year 1252 the Moors who remained in Algarve openly re- 
volted against the Christian king. The King of Granada 
was immediately summoned, in obedience to his feudal ob- 
ligations, to aid in quelling the rebellion. Instead of obey- 
ing the summons, by advice of his council he joined the 
rebels, and called upon all the Moors, whether in his own 
territories or in other parts of Spain, to rise to the assist- 
ance of their brethren in Algarve. A general war was 
promptly commenced, introduced by terrible massacres. In 
a decisive battle at Alcada Eeal, the Moors were utterly 
routed. The insurgent Moors were then driven from Al- 
garve, and sought refuge among the mountains of Granada. 
The Portuguese laid claim to the vacated province, and, 
by treaty stipulations with Alfonso, it was surrendered to 
them. 

Alfonso, thus triumphant, commenced his march upon 
tbe provinces of Granada. Alhamar, in consternation, sued 
for peace. The Castilian king was magnanimous, and, to 
spare the feelings of the Moor, allowed him to pay an an- 
nual tribute to his liege lord, instead of furnishing a sup- 
ply of troops. It is probable that Alfonso was the more 
inclined to this moderation, from the fear that Alhamar 
might appeal to the African Moors for aid. 

But soon revolt broke out in the court of Alfonso, who, 
with vain ambition, was lavishing immense sums in the 
hope of attaining the imperial crown of Germany. Don 



114 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Felipe, the king's brother, was at the head of this revolution, 
and, in the sternness of the strife which ensued, he applied 
to the Moors for aid, both to Alhamar of Granada and to 
Yussef of Morocco. The rebels were however defeated, 
and, being driven from Castile, they took refuge in the 
Moorish cities. But in the mean time several of the gov- 
ernors of the cities of Grranada rebelled against their king, 
and, affirming the right of secession, grasped their swords 
to establish independence. Thus was Spain involved- in 
inextricable embroilment, Christians and Moors all blended 
together, and fighting with ferocity which threatened the 
entire depopulation of the southern kingdoms. In the 
midst of these scenes of tumult and blood Alhamar died, 
in his tent, surrounded by his warriors, both Christian and 
Moors. Don Felipe and many other Castilian nobles stood 
in tears around the royal couch as the Moorish monarch 
bowed his head to the sway of the king of terrors. 

The son of Alhamar, with the title of Mohammed II., 
succeeded to the throne of Grranada. A truce was agreed 
to, as all parties were thoroughly exhausted and impover- 
ished. The domains of the Moors and the Christians were 
alike filled with widows and orphans, smouldering ruins 
and trampled fields. Mohammed II., a man of highly cul- 
tivated mind and polished manners, visited the Christian 
king in his court at Seville. The royal Moor was received 
with great distinction, and quite charmed the inmates of the 
palace by his fascinating address and his remarkable powers 
of conversation. 

Soon after Mohammed returned to Granada he renewed 
the conflict with his insubordinate governors, and applied 
for assistance to Yussef of Morocco. The African king 
soon crossed the straits with a large army, and, as the King 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 115 

of Castile encouraged the revolted governors, war again, in 
all its brutal and insane barbarity, flamed over the moun- 
tains and through the valleys of woe-stricken Spain. The 
Christians met with several severe defeats, and the Moors 
ravaged their territory even up to the walls of Cordova. 
The Infante, Don Sancho, archbishop of Toledo, was taken 
prisoner. Both the Spanish and the African Moors claimed 
the illustrious prize. In the midst of their hot contention, 
a Moorish horseman spurred his steed between the two con- 
tending parties and thrust his lance through the heart of 
the captive, exclaiming : 

"Allah forbid that so many brave men should cut one 
another's throats for the sake of a dog." 

This incident led to a compromise. The Africans took 
the head and the Spanish Moors the right hand of the 
prince, and with these gory trophies each party seemed 
satisfied. But suddenly the tide of battle turned in favor 
of the Christians. The Moors were routed in a hard-fought 
and bloody conflict, and were driven back into Granada. 
The King of Castile also swept the straits with a fleet, and 
prevented any supplies from being sent across from Africa 
to the peninsula. The King of Aragon also sent his forces 
to aid the King of Castile. Under these circumstances, the 
Moors again sued for peace, and there was another short 
respite from the horrors of war. 

Mohammed II. improved this short interval of leisure 
in enlarging and embellishing his capital. The gorgeous 
palace of the Alhambra, which his father commenced, rose 
in majestic proportions which still astonish and delight 
every beholder. From the whole civilized world men of 
genius and culture were welcomed to the sumptuous sa- 
loons of the Moor, and Granada became for a time the 



116 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

most intellectual and refined city, not only of Spain, but of 
Europe. But in that day it seems to have been impossible 
for any people long to remain at peace. War was the nor- 
mal state both of Christians and Moors. Every man was 
ready to grapple his brother-man by the throat, if there 
were any chance that he might thus wrench from him 
either gold or power. 

Again there arose the most serious complications. San- 
cho, an energetic Christian prince, conspired against his 
father, Alfonso, King of Castile. The King of Morocco, 
hoping to subserve his own interests, listened to the suppli- 
cations of the father for aid. The King of Granada, for the 
same reason, espoused the cause of the son. The Cross 
waved defiantly against the Cross, and Crescent challenged 
Crescent on the field of blood. The Pope at Eome now 
interfered, and threatened to hurl the thunderbolt of ex- 
communication upon the head of Sancho if he should per- 
severe in his unnatural rebellion. But providentially at 
this moment, in the year 1284, Alfonso died, and thus San- 
cho became legitimate king. Yussef, however, and Mo- 
hammed still continued the struggle, it being the great ob- 
ject of the African king to bring Granada into subjection to 
his sway. 

Thus the weary years rolled on, years of war and woe. 
Whenever the Christians were not fighting the Moors, they 
were fighting each other. In the Moorish kingdom there 
was also an interminable succession of conspiracies, rebel- 
lions, and insurrections, and the scimiter of the Moslem 
ever dripped with blood. The rock of Gibraltar about 
this time fell into the hands of the Christians. The passion 
of love blended its romance with these tragedies of war. In 
the 5^ear 1323, Ismael, then King of Granada, in ravaging 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 117 

the frontiers of Castile, sacked and destroyed the city of 
Martos. Among the captives there was a young maiden of 
extraordinary loveliness. A fierce conflict arose among 
the Moslem chieftains for the possession of the prize. As 
in the fury of their quarrel they were about to cut her in 
pieces, Mohammed, a young prince of the royal house of 
Granada, succeeded in rescuing her. 

The beautiful Christian maiden had inspired him with 
the most ardent passion. But the king, as soon as he saw 
her, became equally enamored, and, in the exercise of abso- 
lute power, wrested her from Mohammed and consigned her 
to his harem. The wrong fired the bosom of Mohammed 
with implacable fury, and he formed a conspiracy for the 
assassination of the king. The enraged young prince took 
his station at one of the gates of the Alhambra, and ap- 
proaching the king, when leaving the palace, as if to 
salute him, plunged a poniard into his bosom. The as- 
sassin, protected by his companions, effected his escape. 
The king, drenched in his heart's blood, was borne into 
his palace and placed upon a couch, where he immediately 
died. 

The tidings flew through the streets, and Granada was 
shrouded in gloom, for Ismael was much beloved by his 
people. The tumult of the times was, however, such that 
most of the assassins escaped punishment. Mohammed 
lY., son of Ismael, succeeded to the throne. He was a man 
of energy, and fought bravely to repel the Moors from Af- 
rica and the Christians from Castile. One incident illus- 
trates a generous trait in his character. In a combat under 
the walls of Baena, the king hurled his lance through the 
body of a Christian knight. As the royal lance was of 
great value, being incrusted with jewels, some of the king's 



118 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

attendants rushed forward to regain it. But tlie king ar- 
rested them, saying, 

" Let the poor wretch alone ! If he should not die of his 
wound, let him, at least, have something to pay for his 
cure." 

The Moors, under this energetic king, regained many of 
their lost fortresses, and, -among others, that of Gibraltar. 
At length Mohammed lY. was assassinated, by some of his 
own chiefs, when engaged in hunting. His brother Yussef 
was immediately raised to the throne. This prince devel- 
oped great sagacity and rare administrative skill. He im- 
mediately procured a truce of four years with Alfonso, King 
of Castile. These years were devoted to strengthening the 
kingdom, and to the cultivation of all the arts both of peace 
and war. As soon as the truce expired, hostilities were re- 
sumed. 

Yussef applied to the African Moors for aid, and an im- 
mense army was sent across from Morocco to the shores of 
Andalusia. The Christians attempted to intercept the fleet, 
but they were overpowered, and their own fleet was anni- 
hilated. At length a fleet came from Grenoa to the aid of 
Castile. But Providence seemed to favor the Moors, for a 
tempest so disabled this armament that all the ships which 
were not sunk by the gale fell into the hands of the foe. 
The King of Portugal in person led an army to the support 
of Alfonso. The Moors, both African and Spanish, were 
besieging the city of Tarifa, an important place, situated 
upon the coast, about forty miles from the rock of Gibraltar. 
The annals of that day estimate the army of the Moors at 
four hundred and sixty thousand men. This is doubtless 
an exaggeration, but it is certain that the Moors vastly out- 
numbered the Christians, 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 119 

It was in the montli of October, 1340, when the combined 
army of Portugal and Castile, numbering but sixty thousand 
men, arrived in sight of the camp of the besiegers encom- 
passing Tarifa. The two Christian kings, in preparation for 
a desperate and decisive conflict, visited the confessional, 
and partook of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Alfon- 
so was to engage the African, and the King of Portugal was 
to direct his forces against the Spanish Moors. At an early 
hour in the morning the horrid scene of carnage commenced. 
As the storm of war swept the plain, at one time the person 
of Alfonso was in great danger. A vast mass of Moors 
came rushing like a whirlwind, and encircled the eminence 
upon which the king stood, surrounded by his guard. Al- 
fonzo, rallying his guard around him, prepared immediately 
to penetrate the dense columns of gleaming swords and glit- 
tering spears. 

"Do not forget," said he, " that your king is here ; that 
he is about to witness your valor, and you his." 

But the Archbishop of Toledo seized the bridle of the 
king's horse, and entreated him not thus to peril his own 
Ufe, since his death would necessarily doom the whole army 
to destruction. At that critical moment troops from anoth- 
er part of the field arrived, and the Moors were driven back. 
The bloody strife continued hour after hour, with no decis- 
ive advanta2;e e^ained on either side. But soon after the 
sun had passed the meridian the Moors began to give way. 
A scene of slaughter almost unparalleled now ensued. The 
whole Moorish camp, with all its treasures, and even the 
royal harem, fell into the hands of the victors. The Chris- 
tians claim that they killed on that Vlay ot blood, two hun- 
dred thousand Moors. It is certain that the slaughter was 
enormous, and that mourning was sent into almost every 



120 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

family in Granada. The wreck of the Moorish army fled 
to Gibraltar, and the Africans crossed to their own country. 
Soon after this, the Christians succeeded in destroying the 
African fleet. 

Alfonso, flushed with victory, was in a career of conquest, 
assailing fortress after fortress of the Moors, when Yussef 
sued for peace. A truce of ten years was assented to, Yus- 
sef paying the heavy penalty of surrendering Algeziras to 
the Christians, in addition to the fortresses which they had 
already captured. Yussef was also compelled to humble 
himself by doing homage to Alfonso. Before the truce ex- 
pired Alfonso laid siege to Gibraltar, the possession of which 
fortress would enable him to command the approaches into 
Granada. Just as the garrison were reduced to the last ex- 
tremity, and were on the point of surrendering, the heroic 
Castilian king was seized by a contagious disease in his 
camp, and suddenly passed from his tumultuous life into the 
silence and solitude of the grave. Yussef speedily followed 
him, being stabbed by a madman as he was at prayers in 
the mosque. 

Yussef the Moor developed, to a very remarkable de- 
gree, the character of a truly religious man. Indeed, Chris- 
tianity was then so corrupted that it is difficult to assign to 
the Christians in general any superiority in moral excel- 
lence over the Moors. Yussef ordered that daily prayers 
should be offered in public, and appointed stated days for 
the explanation of the Koran to the people. Every Mus- 
sulman was required to be present at these religious exer- 
cises. That no one might have an excuse for neglecting 
this worship, he commanded that no house should be 
built at a distance of more than six miles from some 
mosque unless twelve habitations were to be reared at the 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 121 

same time, when a mosque was to be erected in the midst 
of them. 

The laws were very severe; fornication and adultery, 
with murder, being punished with death. For the first of- 
fense of theft, the culprit lost his right hand ; for the sec- 
ond, his right foot ; for the third, his left hand ; and for the 
fourth, his left foot. The soldier who fled from the field of 
battle, unless assailed three to one, was punished with death. 
The humane command was issued, that of captives taken in 
war, the sick and the aged, women and children, and those 
consecrated to God in a religious life, were not to be mas- 
sacred, unless taken with arms in their hands. 

Soon after the battle of Tarifa, which proved so disas- 
trous to the Moors, the Christians marched to the attack of 
the strong fortress of Algeziras, which was the principal 
arsenal and military depot of Granada. In the defense of 
this city by the Moors, in the year 1342, cannon were used ; ' 
and it is said that this is the first authentic account which 
history gives of the employment of these destructive en- 
gines of war. The battle of Cressy, where they were again 
used by the English, was fought four years later. 

Peter, called the Cruel, was now King of Castile, and 
Mohammed Y. King of Granada. There was a revolt in 
the Moorish court, and Abu Saib usurped the throne. Mo- 
hammed, disguised as a female slave, fled from his palace, 
and effected his escape to Africa. A series of sanguinary 
campaigns ensued, which deluged Granada in blood. Both 
of the claimants for the throne appealed to the King of 
Castile for aid. Peter espoused the cause of Mohammed, 
and Abu Saib was driven to such an extremity that he 
adopted the chivalric resolve of visiting in person the Court 
of Peter, and throwing himself upon his magnanimity. But 

6 



122 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Peter had no soul to appreciate this chivalry. He seized 
the Moorish prince, robbed him of his treasure, led him 
half naked, seated upon an ass, through the streets of the 
city, cut off the heads of all his followers in his presence, 
and then the infamous Castilian king, with his own spear, 
pierced the heart of Saib. The Moslem sovereign, as he 
expired, reproachfully exclaimed, 

"Oh, Peter, Peter, what a deed for a cavalier!" 

Three Peters at this time occupied the principal Chris- 
tian thrones of Spain. ^The character of Peter the Cruel, 
of Castile, is sufficiently indicated by his treatment of Abu 
Saib. His whole career was that of unmitigated brutality. 
Peter lY . of Aragon was a merciless executioner, sending, 
upon the slightest irritation, his most devoted friends to the 
scaffold. Peter I. of Portugal has attained renown in the 
pages of romance for his passion for the beautiful Inez of 
Castro. Her assassination by three Portuguese lads in- 
flamed his soul with the spirit of a demon. He swept 
blindly, with fire and death, those portions of his realms in 
which the assassins dwelt. Two of the assassins, whom he 
succeeded in capturing, he exposed to the most exquisite 
torture, and then tore out their quivering hearts while they 
were yet living. He took from the grave the body of his 
murdered mistress, clothed it in robes of state, and placed 
the imperial crown upon the livid and wasting brow. The 
grandees of the court were then summoned, and compelled 
10 do homage to this revolting mockery of royalty. 

This sad world has never perhaps experienced a darker 
period than that at which we have now arrived. Charles 
the Bad swayed his gory sceptre over terrified Navarre. 
The whole of Spain groaned beneath the rod of unrelenting 



SPAIN A BATTLE-FIELD. 123 

tyranny. Anarchy desolated France. Eichard II. was 
commencing bis turbulent reign in England. Italy and 
Germany were agitated, as with earthquake throes, by the 
contentions between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines. Two 
rival popes claimed the tiara, and two rival emperors were 
struggling for the Germanic crown. The ferocious hordes' 
of Tamerlane were sweeping the plains of Asia. The 
whole world, through man's crime, seemed but an arena 
of tears and blood. 



124 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



CHAPTEE YL 

CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 

(From 1369 A.D. to 1468 A.D.) 

Gentleness and Craelty of the Moors. — The Moorish Ladies. — Anecdote.— 
Granada a Fief of Castile. — ^A Queen besieged. — Independence of the Nobles. 
— Anecdote of the King and the Nobles. — The Kingdom of Aragon. — Its Civil 
Dissensions. — Strange Scene in the Palace. — The Deposition of Henry IV. of 
Castile. — "War between Henry and Alfonso. — Griefs of Isabella. — Her Mat- 
rimonial Engagements. — Declared Heir to the Castilian Throne. 

IN the character of the Moors of Spain there was a re- 
markable blending of softness and of ferocity. They 
often developed many of the most gentle virtues, and the 
most chivalric sense of honor, in connection with crimes 
the most cruel and barbaric. When Gibraltar was taken 
by the Christians, and all its inhabitants were driven into 
exile, an aged Moor, with his white beard floating upon his 
breast, approached Ferdinand, and said, 

" King of Castile, what injury have I done to thee or to 
thine? Thy great-grandfather drove me from my native 
city of Seville, and I sought an asylum at Xeres. Thy 
grandfather expelled me from that place, and I took refuge 
in Tarifa. Thy father drove me from that retreat, and I 
came to Gibraltar, hoping there to find a peaceful grave. 
But thou hast pursued me even here. Tell me, now, if 
there be any spot upon this globe where I can die unmo- 
lested by the Christians ?" 

" Cross the sea," sternly replied the Castilian king ; and 
the unhappy exile was driven over the straits into Africa. 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 125 

Among tlie Moors of Spain there were poets, painters, 
sculptors, architects, philosophers, and physicians of much 
eminence. Most of their literary works perished at the 
final conquest of their country. The fanatic Cardinal 
Ximenes ordered every copy of the Koran to be burned. 
The ignorant soldiery mistook, for that work, every thing 
which was written in Arabic, and committed a vast multi- 
tude of manuscripts to the flames. The libraries of these 
Moors, who were passionate lovers of story-telling, abound- 
ed in novels and romances. Lords and ladies met night 
after night beneath the gilded domes of the Alhambra, and 
groups of the populace were assembled in the huts of the 
peasants, to listen to legends of passionate love and chival- 
ric daring. Popular enthusiasm was peculiarly aroused by 
the charms of music and song. The Moorish lover who 
warbled the most plaintive ditties beneath the balconied 
window of his mistress, took especial pride in chipping off 
the head of his enemy by a single blow of his sabre, and in 
dangling those gory trophies at his saddle-bow, and impal- 
ing them before his gate as the memorials of his achieve- 
ments. 

It is the universal declaration that the Moorish ladies 
were distinguished for their beauty. A Moorish historian, 
who wrote at Granada early in the fourteenth century, thus 
describes his countrywomen : 

"Their beauty is remarkable. But the loveliness which 
strikes the beholder at the first sight afterwards receives 
its principal charm from the grace and gentleness of their 
manners. In stature they are above the middle height, and 
of delicate and slender proportions. Their long black hair 
descends to the earth. Their teeth are embellished with 
the whiteness of alabaster, and their vermilion lips perpet- 



126 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ually smile with a bewitching air. The constant use which 
they make of the most exquisite perfumes gives a freshness 
and brilliancy to their complexions, possessed by no other 
Mohammedan women. Their walking, their dancing, their 
every movement is distinguished by a graceful softness, an 
ease, a lightness which surpasses all their other charms. 
Their conversation is lively and sensible, and their fine in- 
tellects are constantly displayed in brilliant wit or judicious 
sentiments." 

The devastations of war at this time were dreadful, al- 
most beyond conception. The spirit of utter destruction 
animated both Christians and Moors. In both armies 
there was a special corps, called cutters down^ whose duty 
was to destroy effectually the possessions and the property 
of the foe. Every house was demolished. All fruit-trees 
and vines were destroyed, and every field of corn and every 
garden trampled to ruin. Those who were not slain in 
battle or massacred in cold blood were usually sold into 
slavery. 

In the year 1450 there were two rival Moorish kings 
struggling for the supremacy in Granada, and the little 
kingdom was distracted with the sorest interual dissensions. 
At the same time the King of Castile was making the most 
destructive irruptions upon the frontiers. At that time the 
Christian kings of Spain, by combining, could, with perfect 
ease, have driven the Moors out of the peninsula. But the 
kings of Castile, Aragon, Portugal and Navarre were even 
more hostile to each other than they were to the Moors. 

The following anecdote beautifully illustrates the chival- 
ry and magnanimity at times displayed, both by Christians 
and Moors, in these days of violence and blood. We give 
the story as narrated in Marie's Conde. 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 127 

On the eve of an expedition, Narvaez, the Christian gov- 
ernor of Antequera, detached some horsemen to reconnoitre 
the country. The men, perceiving no enemy, were going 
back to Antequera, when, on turning a hill, they suddenly 
fell in with a Moorish horseman, and made him a prisoner. 
He was a young man about twenty-three years of age, of 
prepossessing appearance, richly habited, wearing a sword 
and buckler of exquisite workmanship, and mounted on a 
fine horse. He evidently belonged to some distinguished 
family of the country. He was brought before Narvaez, 
who asked him who he was, and whither he was going. 
He replied, in considerable emotion, that he was the son of 
the Alcalde of Eonda, but on endeavoring to continue his 
relation, his tears fell in such abundance that he could not 
utter another word. 

" Thou surprisest me," said Narvaez. " Thy father I 
know to be an intrepid warrior, but thou weepest like a 
woman. Dost thou not know that this is one of the or- 
dinary chances of war?" 

"I do not lament the loss of my liberty," replied the 
Moor, "but a misfortune a thousand times heavier." 

Being pressed to explain the cause of his agitation, he 
said, 

" I have long loved the daughter of a neighboring al- 
calde, and that love is returned. This very night was to 
see her mine. She is now waiting for me, and I am taken 
a captive by your soldiers, and I can not describe my de- 
pair." 

" Thou art a noble cavalier," replied the chivalric Chris- 
tian. " If thou wilt promise to return, I will allow thee to 
go and see thy mistress." 

Full of gratitude, the Moor accepted the condition and 



128 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

departed. Before daylight he reached her dwelling. On 
learning the cause of his evident dejection, she said, 

Before this fatal moment thou hast always shown af- 
fection towards me ; and now thou givest me new proofs 
of it. Thou fearest that if I follow thee I shall lose my 
liberty, and thou wishest me to remain ; but dost thou 
think me less generous than thyself? My fate must be 
united with thine. Whether free or enslaved, thou shalt 
always find me at thy side. In this casket are jewels, suffi- 
cient either to pay thy ransom or to support us both in 
slavery." * 

The two lovers immediately departed, and towards 
evening arrived at Antequera. They were nobly received 
by Narvaez, who passed the highest praise on the fidelity 
of the cavalier and the affecting devotedness of the maiden. 
He not only dismissed them both, but loaded them with 
presents, and sent an escort to conduct them safely to Eon- 
da. The news spread throughout the kingdom of Granada, 
and became the subject of many romances, in which the 
chivalry of Narvaez was sung by his enemies — a pleasing 
reward for his beneficence. 

In the year 1460, Henry lY., King of Castile, had cap- 
tured so many Moorish fortresses, and was advancing so 
resistlessly in his career of conquest that Aben Ismael, 
then king of Grranada, implored peace, and humiliated him- 
self by submitting to hold his kingdom as a fief of Castile, 
and to pay an. annual tribute of twelve thousand pistoles 
in gold. But Hassan, after his accession to the Moorish 
throne, in the year 1469, taking advantage of the civil war 
then raging in Castile, renounced the vows of fealty, and 
mercilessly ravaged the Castilian frontiers. The chroni- 
cles of these interminable and bloody forays are inter- 




MOORISH HOMAGE TO THE CHRISTIAN QUEEN. 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 1311 



spersed with narratives of deeds of courtesy which sooth« 
the mind weary of the contemplation of horrors. 

The empress-queen of Alfonso YII. was besieged in the 
castle of Azeca. She reproached the Moorish knights for 
their want of chivalry in assailing a fortress defended only 
by a woman. The cavahers acknowledged the justice of 
the reproach, and requested that the queen would but 
show herself upon the battlements of her castle. She did 
so ; when the Moslem chivalry, bowing before her in the 
most respectful manner, immediately ordered the siege to 
be raised, and departed. 

In times of peace the Moors and the Christians visited 
each other's courts freely, in the interchange of the most 
cordial courtesies. The Castilian king, Alfonso XL, sent 
two, captive Moorish princes back to their father, not only 
exacting no ransom, but loading them with costly presents. 
When this Castilian sovereign died, after a career of al- 
most constant conquest over the Moslems, the King of 
Granada and his court put on mourning. 

" He was a noble prince," said they, '^ and one that knew 
how to honor his enemies as well as his friends." 

Castile was so called from the numerous baronial cas- 
tles which crowned almost every eminence of a magnifi- 
cent realm embracing nearly fifty thousand square miles, 
being about as large as the State of Georgia. The reign- 
ing king was but slightly raised above these imperious no- 
bles in rank, and often inferior to many of them in wealth 
and princely state. The estates of the Lord of Biscay em- 
braced eighty towns and castles. Alvaro de Luna, by the 
blast of his bugles, could summon twenty thousand vassals 
beneath his banners. Many of these Castilian nobles were 
in the receipt of an annual income equal to five hundred 



182 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

thousand dollars of our money. Gold and silver plate of 
the most elaborate enchasings were spread upon their ban- 
queting-tables. All these haughty nobles claimed the rev- 
olutionary right of seceding from the central government 
whenever so disposed ; and thus the king, even upon the 
eve of battle, was liable to see any of his lords marching 
from the field with their vassals. 

These nobles maintained their independence of the king, 
and their supremacy over their serfs, only by their valor 
and heroism. Their lives were mainly passed in the saddle 
and on fields of blood. Scorning indulgence in effeminate 
luxury, even the boys of noble lineage followed their fa- 
thers into the hottest of the battle. The son of Ponce do 
Leon, when but thirteen years of age, rode by the side of 
his father in the fiercest frays which the Christians waged 
against the Moors. The only son of Alfonso YI., but thir- 
teen years old, was slain when manfully fighting in the 
ranks at the battle of Ucles, beneath the banners of his fa- 
ther. 

These nobles took the liberty of expressing their opin- 
ions very freely to the king whenever he displeased them. 
In the year 1258 the lords sent a communication to the 
King of Castile remonstrating against the extravagance of 
his personal expenses and the number of courtiers he main- 
tained, and bluntly calling upon him to " bring his ap- 
petite within a more reasonable compass." When there 
chanced to be a weak king, he was trampled upon by his 
nobles ; but occasionally an energetic sovereign would 
arise who, with a hand mailed in steel, would box his in- 
subordinate lords into submission. 

The higher ecclesiastics also had acquired enormous 
wealth, and rioted in licentiousness and luxury unsurpass- 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 133 

ed by that of the baronial lords. The martial noble, who 
had squandered his life in violence and sin, purchased 
peace of conscience on a dying bed by immense largesses 
to the Church. In every battle which was waged against 
the Moors, the favor of Ileaven was implored, with prom- 
ises of large portions of the spoil which might be taken. 
The ravages of war left many of the daughters of the no- 
blest families in a state of friendlessness, and they sought 
refuge in the nunneries. These nunneries became thus 
very important establishments, and they were very richly 
endowed. 

The monastery of Burgos contained one hundred and 
fifty ladies of the noblest families of Castile. The abbess 
was considered next in rank to the queen, and exercised 
jurisdiction over fourteen capital cities and fifty smaller 
towns, drawing from them immense revenue. The Arch- 
bishop of Toledo was deemed, next to the Pope, the high- 
est ecclesiastic in Christendom. His income amounted to 
nearly a million of our money annually. Beneath his 
martial banner of the cross he could muster a greater num- 
ber of vassals than any other noble in the realm ; and no 
steel-clad baron could plunge into the heady fight with a 
more earnest good-will than this professed disciple of the 
meek and lowly Jesus. 

The power of the king was greatly limited by a privy 
council, called the Cortes, composed of the principal nobility, 
both lay and clerical, of his realm. No important enter- 
prise could be undertaken without their consent. There 
was a constant conflict, more or less open and avowed, ever 
raging between these nobles and the king. In the follow- 
ing story we get a glimpse into the palace and the castle, 
and obtain a vivid picture of the habits of life in that day. 



134 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOEY. 

One night Henry III. of Castile returned to his castle 
from hunting, fatigued, cold, and hungry. There was no 
money in the king's purse, and nothing in the castle to eat, 
excepting the game which the king brought home. The 
steward ventured to contrast the indigent condition of the 
sovereign with the voluptuousness in which his nobles were 
revelling, and informed the monarch that a party of the 
nobles were feasting that very evening with the Archbishop 
of Toledo. 

Henry resolved to view the banquet with his own eyes, 
and obtained an introduction, in disguise, into the archie- 
piscopal palace, where he beheld a scene of splendor, lux- 
ury, and voluptuousness such as even royal eyes had sel- 
dom beheld. The next day he summoned these courtiers 
into the audience-chamber of his palace, and took his seat 
upon the throne with a drawn sabre in his hand. Turning 
sternly to the nobles, and alluding to the scene of the pre- 
ceding evening, he said, 

" You are the real sovereigns of Castile, enjoying all the 
rights and revenues of royalty, while I, stripped of my pat- 
rimony, have scarcely wherewithal to procure the necessa- 
ries of life." 

Then, at a signal, his guards entered, accompanied by 
the public executioner with the instruments of death. The 
nobles were terrified, for it would have been in perfect ac- 
cordance with the character of the times that every head 
should have fallen. They' dropped upon their knees im- 
ploring forgiveness, and promising to restore to the crown 
those sources of revenue which they had wrested from it. 
The king detained them as hostages until many fortresses 
and cities were placed in his hands, and then they were set 
at liberty. Though this story wears the garb of romance, 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 135 

it is found in many of the most authentic of the Castilian 
annals, and is certainly in perfect harmony with the spirit 
of that age. 

North-east of Castile, extending from her frontiers to 
the summits of the Pyrenees, was the kingdom of Aragon, 
a beautiful realm, containing about thirty-five thousand 
square miles. Aragon then embraced Catalonia and Va- 
lencia, and possessed a sea-coast on the Mediterranean of 
nearly three hundred miles. The nobles of Aragon. were 
equally haughty and fierce^ and even more barbaric than 
those of Castile. They also claimed the right, upon any 
pretext which they judged sufiicient, of renouncing their 
allegiance to the sovereign, and, by secession^ of throwing 
themselves back upon their reserved rights of indepen- 
dence. The Aragoifese devoted special attention to the 
navy, successfully competing with the fleets of Pisa ; and 
they even achieved the conquest of the Balearic Isles, of 
Sardinia, and of Sicily, annexing them to their proud realm. 
At one time this navy penetrated even the Levant, and 
acquired vast renown by the subjection of Athens to the 
Aragonese kingdom. 

The King of Aragon distributed among his great barons 
the provinces which, one after another, he had wrested 
from the Moors, reserving a certain portion, sometimes one- 
fifth, for the royal domains. Upon capturing a city, it was 
divided into districts, each of which was assigned to some 
noble in fief, the king receiving in homage a certain por- 
tion of the revenue. The kingdom was almost incessantly 
convulsed, when not engaged in foreign wars, by struggles 
among these barons for the supremacy, each lord regarding 
himself rather as the rival than the subject of his sovereign. 

The reign of John I. of Castile was one incessant tern- 



136 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

pest of war. He was continually struggling in the most 
desperate conflicts, either with the Moors, or his neighbors 
the Portuguese, or his own rebellious nobles. His son, 
Henry III., surnamed the Infirm, succeeded him when but 
eleven years of age. Six prelates, six barons, and six dep- 
uties from the cities constituted the Council of Regency 
during the minority of the prince. The haughty Archbish- 
op of Toledo, a prominent member of this council, endeav- 
ored to engross in his own person all its authority. The 
dissensions which arose filled the kingdom with confusion ; 
and when, in the year 1393, the young monarch attained 
his majority, the ship of state, as with a feeble hand he 
took the helm, was rolling and plunging amidst the bil- 
lows of a storm-swept sea. He died the first day of the 
year 1407, leaving his battered crown to an infant son, 
John II., then but two years of age. The royal babe was, 
with great pomp, crowned in the Cathedral of Segovia, the 
queen-mother, aided by Fernando, brother of the deceased 
king, being intrusted with the regency. 

Soon after this Fernando was declared to be the legiti- 
mate heir to the throne of Aragon, upon the death of Mar- 
tin, the king, in the year 1410. John II. in due time was 
intrusted with the sceptre of Castile, and after an inglorious 
reign, in which he secured the reputation of being the weak- 
est and most despicable prince who ever sat upon a throne, 
he died in 1454, leaving, besides two sons, an infant, Isa- 
bella, who afterwards became so renowned, not only in 
the annals of Spain, but in those of the world. John on 
his death -bed, reviewing the sorrows of a reign of forty-eight 
years, expressed regret that he had not been born the son 
of a mechanic instead of King of Castile. Henry lY., the 
eldest son, succeeded to the throne. The following scene 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 137 

which occurred in the palace at Madrid throws light upon 
his character, his domestic state, and the manners of that 
age. 

On one occasion the king proclaimed a bull-fight in the 
plaza before the palace of Madrid, in honor of one of his 
beautiful mistresses, Dona Guiomar. The indignant queen 
not only refused to witness the spectacle, so insulting to her 
wifely dignity, but forbade any of the ladies of the palace 
from appearing at the windows, ordering them all to retire 
to the apartments in the rear. The haughty favorite, rely- 
ing upon the protection of her royal paramour, appeared, 
in magnificent attire, upon one of the balconies of the pal- 
ace, and enjoyed the feats of the day! 

The queen, half-crazed with jealousy and rage, took her 
stand at the foot of the staircase, ^nd, as the minion de- 
scended, fell upon her like a tigress, with tooth and nail. 
The astounded mistress was knocked down and rolled over 
and over, and dragged along the floor by the hair of her 
head. Her shrieks summoned the king. He seized his 
consort by the arm, and hurled her from him with such 
violence that she fell insensible, and in that state was car- 
ried to her apartment. The king, to avoid the repetition 
of such scenes, erected a very splendid villa for his guilty 
favorite at some distance from Madrid. 

The nobles conspired against Henry lY., and marshalled 
their vassals to drive him from the throne, and to place the 
crown upon the brow of his brother Alfonso. The insur- 
gent barons met in great strength upon the plains of Avila, 
about one hundred miles north-west of Madrid, and, with 
barbaric pomp, proceeded to the ceremonial of the depo- 
sition of their king. On the plain which spreads out be- 
fore the walls of the city the baronial army was encamped, 



138 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

and the gleam of tents and banners and polished armor, the 
prancing of cavalry and the mazes of military evolutions 
filled the eye, while strains of martial music from multitu- 
dinous bands pealed through the air. The whole city of 
Avila crowded out upon the plain to witness the imposing 
ceremony. A vast, elevated platform was erected, in the 
centre of which there arose a throne, upon which was seat- 
ed an efiigy of Henry lY. robed in imperial purple, with 
a crown upon his head and a sceptre in his hand. 

A herald mounted the platform, and, with a loud voice, 
declared the king no longer worthy to reign, charging him 
with incompetency, and with many atrocious public and 
private vices, and declaring that the welfare of the realm 
imperiously demanded his deposition. The Archbishop of 
Toledo, the most turbulent man of that turbulent age, then 
advanced and wrested the crown from the royal brow ; 
the Marquis of Yillena wrenched the sceptre from his hand ; 
a third baron seized the sword ; a fourth tore off the royal 
robes ; a fifth and a sixth grasped other emblems of royalty ; 
and then all together, with curses and insults, kicked the 
despoiled ef&gy to the ground, where it was torn to pieces. 

Alfonso, but eleven years of age, was then brought upon 
the stage, and, placed on a shield, was raised upon the 
shoulders of the nobles. He was received with the flourish 
of trumpets, the beating of drums, and the acclaim of all 
the surrounding thousands, shouting, " Long live Alfonso, 
our King of Castile." 

But Henry, though thus easily derx)sed in e&igyj still 
grasped the sceptre, and was at the head of a powerful 
army. The two brothers, with their accompanying troops, 
soon met near Olmedo, and a fierce, sanguinary, but inde- 
cisive battle ensued, in which each party claimed the victo- 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 189 

ry. The Pope espoused the cause of Henry, and threatened 
Alfonso and his associate rebels with the terrors of ex- 
communication. But the menaces of the distant Vatican 
only excited the ridicule of these rough warriors. The 
Pope's legate was hooted from the camp, and in terror of 
personal violence he mounted his mule and precipitately 
fled. While affairs were in this state, Alfonso was suddenly 
taken sick and died. The rebels then proposed to place 
his sister Isabella upon the throne. But this young prin- 
cess, possessing sagacity above her years, declined the peril- 
ous honor. Still, notwithstanding this declinature, many 
of her pretended partisans proclaimed her as queen, at Se- 
ville and other parts of Andalusia. Her refusal to encour- 
age these measures secured the good-will of her brother, 
and he declared his intention of pronouncing her his heir 
to the crown. 

John, King of Aragon, had a son, Ferdinand, who at ten 
years of age was, with imposing ceremonies, proclaimed heir 
to his fother's throne. The queen-mother, an ambitious 
and imperious woman, then took her child to Catalonia to 
receive the homage of that province. But the turbulent 
Catalonian nobles were at that time exasperated against 
the king, and gave such unmistakable indications of hostile 
measures that the queen, with her son and a few adherents, 
fled from Barcelona and took refusre in the fortress of Gero- 
na, about fifty miles from the Catalonian capital. 

Roger, Count of Pallas, with a strong military band, pur- 
sued her. The queen, with her party, retreated to a tower 
attached to the principal church in the fortified town, which 
tower, as was the custom in those warlike days, was built 
according to the rules of military art, and was capable of 
maintaining a formidable resistance. The besiegers erected. 



140 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOKY.- 

opposite, an antagonistic tower, "upon wbich they planted 
their rude artillery, which was then coming into use, and 
other engines of war. For many days an unintermitted 
discharge of bullets and other destructive missiles was kept 
up against the little garrison. The defense was so desperate 
that the besiegers dug a subterranean passage, endeavoring 
thus to secure an entrance beneath the tower, but they were 
repulsed with great slaughter. 

The queen, during these stormy hours, displayed all the 
qualities of a heroine. With intrepidity unsurpassed by 
any of her soldiers, she shared all their perils ; visiting in 
person every port of danger, and encouraging the defenders 
by her valor and words of cheer. While she was thus he- 
roically holding her foes at bay, the king marched with his 
troops to her relief The sudden approach of these horse- 
men with archers and artillery compelled the insurgents to 
raise the siege and flee with such precipitancy as to leave 
many of their cannon in the hands of the king. 

The Catalans were so exasperated that they resolved to 
secede from the monarchy and to establish a republic. 
They issued a proclamation, renouncing allegiance to King 
John and his son Ferdinand, declaring that it was their 
right to depose the sovereign for any infringement of the 
liberties of the nation, and that the welfare of the people 
should always be paramount to the personal interests of 
the prince. The secessionists then offered the crown of 
their republic to Henry TV. of Castile, but he refused the 
offer. It was then presented to Don Pedro of Portugal, 
who accepted the gift, which he could only maintain by 
the sword. The King of Aragon with great vigor pushed 
the insurgents, capturing, in bloody assaults, one after an- 
other of the fortresses of Southern Catalonia. The Portu- 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 141 

guese prince, in harassment and exhaustion, suddenly fell 
ill of a fever and died. 

Still the Catalans were so resolute that they would al- 
low no one to express an opinion in opposition to this dis- 
memberment of the Aragonese kingdom. Two of the most 
illustrious nobles who had ventured to suggest compromise 
were dragged to the scaffold. The crown was then pre- 
sented to John, Duke of Calabria and Lorraine, a knight 
of such renown that adventurers from all parts of Europe 
flocked to his standard. With eight thousand men be- 
neath his flaunting banners he descended through the de- 
files of Koussillon into the plains of Catalonia. 

The prospects of the poor old King of Aragon were in- 
deed melancholy. Plis treasury was empty ; his health 
was very infirm; from the exposure of a winter's cam- 
paign a disease had seized his eyes, which had rendered 
him totally and hopelessly blind ; he was assailed in Cata- 
lonia by foes outnumbering any forces he could raise ; 
and the most threatening rebellions were breaking out in 
other parts of his realms. 

In this dark hour his heroic wife came to his aid, with 
that marvellous energy which woman often shows when 
man yields in despair. With her son, Ferdinand, riding at 
h^r side, she placed herself at the head of such forces as 
she could collect, and fell upon the Duke of Lorraine with 
such impetuosity as to drive him in confusion from Ge- 
rona. In this fierce encounter the youthful Ferdinand 
came near being taken captive. He was only rescued by 
the devotion of his officers, many of whom sacrificed their 
lives to secure his safety. 

Still the chivalric Duke John, magnificent in his bear- 
ing and in the trappings of his steed, excited universal 



142 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

enthusiasm, and especially tlie admiration of the ladies. 
Wherever he appeared the people thronged around him 
with the most ardent acclamations, and the ladies loaded 
him with their jewelry to defray the expenses of the war. 
To add to the griefs of the broken-hearted king, the queen, 
Joan Henriquez, exhausted by the toils of the tented field, 
sickened and died. But in the evolutions of those romances 
of fact, which so often exceed the imaginings of fiction, a 
Jewish physician appeared, who induced the king to sub- 
mit to the ,operation of couching his eyes, which proved 
perfectly successful. The spirits of the octogenarian king 
were so cheered by the restoration of his sight that he re- 
sumed the administration of affairs with almost the vigor 
of his early years. And then again fortune, as it is term- 
ed, proverbially so capricious, struck down the Duke of 
Lorraine, and the hopes of the Catalonians sank into the 
grave, in which their heroic leader, plumed and robed in 
martial array, with his polished sabre by his side, was en- 
tombed. 

The king now invested Barcelona. Humanely anxious 
to save the city from the horrors of being taken by storm, 
he instituted a rigorous blockade. The garrison attempted 
a sally, but were repulsed with a loss of four thousand men. 
Farther resistance was unavailing. The Barcelonians sul:*- 
rendered, and Catalonia returned to its allegiance after ten 
years of war and woe. 

While these scenes were transpiring Isabella was living, 
in comparative quietude, at Madrid, in the court of her 
brother, Henry TV. of Castile. The king was fond of mag- 
nificence, and was boundlessly extravagant in his tastes 
and his expenditures. A body-guard of three thousand 
six hundred lancers, gorgeously equipped, surrounded his 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 143 

palace. The sons of the most illustrious nobles were the 
officers of this splendid corps. The constant object of his 
ambition was to expel the Moors from Spain, and to ex- 
tend his sway over the beautiful realm of Granada. He 
proclaimed a crusade against them, and, assembling his 
chivalry from the remote provinces, assailed Granada in in- 
cessant incursions of devastation and misery. These fo- 
rays, however, accomplished nothing decisive. Fields were 
trampled, orchards cut down, villages burned, men butcher- 
ed, and captives dragged into slavery. Henry was no sol- 
dier. He loved merely the pomp and the pageantry of 
war. 

The wife of Henry TV. was a very gay, vivacious, beau- 
tiful but wicked woman, the sister of Alfonso Y., King of 
Portugal. With her retinue of maidens of brilliant'charms, 
she caused the palace ever to resound with wassail, and 
was as voluptuous in her tastes and as indulgent in her 
gallantries as the dissolute king himself The handsomest 
cavaliers in the kingdom were ever hovering around her. 
The corruption of the court could hardly have been sur- 
passed by that of Babylon when the denunciatory hand- 
writing of God appeared upon the wall of Belshazzar's 
palace. The religious houses were involved in the general 
corruption, while bishops and archbishops vied with no- 
bles and princes in unbounded license of sensuality. 

The queen, in the year 1462, gave birth to a daughter, 
Joanna. The king called for an oath of fealty to her, as 
presumptive heir to the crown. The nobles refused to 
take this oath, boldly declaring that Joanna was not the 
child of the king. Isabella was at this time about fourteen 
years of age, and perhaps as unhappy a maiden as could 
then be found in Spain. She had been trained in her ear- 



142 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

enthusiasm, and especially the admiration of the ladies. 
Wherever he appeared the people thronged around him 
with the most ardent acclamations, and the ladies loaded 
him with their jewelry to defray the expenses of the war. 
To add to the griefs of the broken-hearted king, the queen, 
Joan Henriquez, exhausted by the toils of the tented field, 
sickened and died. But in the evolutions of those romances 
of fact, which so often exceed the imaginings of fiction, a 
Jewish physician appeared, who induced the king to sub- 
mit to the ^operation of couching his eyes, which proved 
perfectly successful. The spirits of the octogenarian king 
were so cheered by the restoration of his sight that he re- 
sumed the administration of affairs with almost the vigor 
of his early years. And then again fortune, as it is term- 
ed, proverbially so capricious, struck down the Duke of 
Lorraine, and the hopes of the Catalonians sank into the 
grave, in which their heroic leader, plumed and robed in 
martial array, with his polished sabre by his side, was en- 
tombed. 

The king now invested Barcelona. Humanely anxious 
to save the city from the horrors of being taken by storm, 
he instituted a rigorous blockade. The garrison attempted 
a sally, but were repulsed with a loss of four thousand men. 
Farther resistance was unavailing. The Barcelonians sul*- 
rendered, and Catalonia returned to its allegiance after ten 
years of war and woe. 

While these scenes were transpiring Isabella was living, 
in comparative quietude, at Madrid, in the court of her 
brother, Henry TV. of Castile. The king was fond of mag- 
nificence, and was boundlessly extravagant in his tastes 
and his expenditures. A body-guard of three thousand 
six hundred lancers, gorgeously equipped, surrounded his 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 143 

palace. The sons of the most illustrious nobles were the 
officers of this splendid corps. The constant object of his 
ambition was to expel the Moors from Spain, and to ex- 
tend his sway over the beautiful realm of Granada. He 
proclaimed a crusade against them, and, assembling his 
chivalry from the remote provinces, assailed Granada in in- 
cessant incursions of devastation and misery. These fo- 
rays, however, accomplished nothing decisive. Fields were 
trampled, orchards cut down, villages burned, men butcher- 
ed, and captives dragged into slavery. Henry was no sol- 
dier. He loved merely the pomp and the pageantry of 
war. 

The wife of Henry lY. was a very gay, vivacious, beau- 
tiful but wicked woman, the sister of Alfonso Y., King of 
Portugal. With her retinue of maidens of brillianfcharms, 
she caused the palace ever to resound with wassail, and 
was as voluptuous in her tastes and as indulgent in her 
gallantries as the dissolute king himself The handsomest 
cavaliers in the kingdom were ever hovering around her. 
The corruption of the court could hardly have been sur- 
passed by that of Babylon when the denunciatory hand- 
writing of God appeared upon the wall of Belshazzar's 
palace. The religious houses were involved in the general 
corruption, while bishops and archbishops vied with no- 
bles and princes in unbounded license of sensuality. 
^ The queen, in the year 1462, gave birth to a daughter, 
Joanna. The king called for an oath of fealty to her, as 
presumptive heir to the crown. The nobles refused to 
take this oath, boldly declaring that Joanna was not the 
child of the king. Isabella was at this time about fourteen 
years of age, and perhaps as unhappy a maiden as could 
then be found in Spain. She had been trained in her ear- 



144 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

liest years, by her widowed and pious mother, in the little 
town of Arevala, far from the corruptions of the court, 
where she had been faithfully instructed in the purest 
principles of morality and religion. The strong probabili- 
ty that the crown of Castile would descend to her, brought 
many royal suitors to the court where she now resided to 
solicit her hand. She had sufficient intelligence to per- 
ceive that her person was to be sacrificed for political com- 
binations, and in anxiety and sadness she secluded herself 
from the bacchanal festivities of the palace. 

Yery resentfully she remonstrated with her brother 
against his selfish policy, which would wreck her happiness 
by forcing her into a marriage merely to promote his own 
interests. She was first promised to Carlos, eldest son of 
the King of Aragon, and brother of Ferdinand, whom she 
subsequently married. But Carlos was near fifty years of 
age, and she but fourteen. Having once seen him^ she de- 
clared that neither threats nor entreaties should induce her 
to so unsuitable a match. The death of Carlos fortunately 
released her from this trouble. She was then promised to 
a rich, powerful, debauched old noble, the grand-master of 
Calatrava, a man whose character was stained with the 
most revolting vices. The anguish of Isabella, upon con- 
templating this doom, was so great that she retired to her 
chamber, and for a day and a night did nothing but weep, 
refusing all nourishment. 

Her prayers were so piteous that Grod would come to 
her relief and save her from the dishonor, by either taking 
away her life or that of her enemy, that one of her attend- 
ant ladies, Beatrice of Bobadilla, a high-spirited woman, 
provided herself with a dagger, and vowed before God that 
if the grand-master of Calatrava should dare to appear and 



CHIVALRY AND CRIME. 145 

claim Isabella for his bride, she would plunge that dagger 
into his heart. The gay ladies of the court were amazed 
and amused by the scruples of Isabella. It mattered but 
little to them who the husband might be, provided only 
that he were rich and powerful, since they could indulge 
in gallantries with more agreeable lovers to their heart's 
content. 

The grand-master made the most sumptuous prepara- 
tions for his wedding, and, with a gorgeous retinue of 
friends and vassals, set out from his palace at Almagro 
for Madrid, to receive his bride. At the close of the first 
day's journey he reached the little village of Villambia, 
where he passed the night. Here he was suddenly and 
violently seized with an attack of quinsy, which, after a 
sickness of four days, terminated his life. It is not to be 
supposed that Isabella shed any tears over his grave, and 
still not the slightest shadow of suspicion rests upon her as 
having been in any way accessory to his death. 

Isabella for a time withdrew to a convent at Avila, 
where she pertinaciously refused the entreaties of many of 
the nobles to allow herself to be proclaimed Queen of Cas- 
tile, in opposition to her brother Henry. At length the 
nobles, who had been waging war against the king, came 
to a compromise with him, in which it was agreed that the 
king's dissolute wife should be divorced and sent back to 
Portugal ; that Isabella should be immediately recognized 
as heir to the united crowns of Castile and Leon, with suit- 
able revenue to maintain the dignity of her rank, and that 
while she should not marry any one without the consent 
of her brother, she should not be forced into any nuptial alli- 
ance in opposition to her own wishes. 



146 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



CHAPTER YII. 

MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 

(From 1468 A.D. to 1481 A.D.) 

Demands for the Hand of Isabella. — Suit of Richard, Duke of Gloucester ; of the 
Duke of Guienne. — Claims of Ferdinand. — Opposition of Henry IV. to Fer- 
dinand. — Marriage with Ferdinand. — Rivalry of Joanna. — Conflict between 
Isabella and her Brother Henry. — Coronation of Isabella. — Civil War. — Ec- 
clesiastical Soldiers. — Career of Alfonso. — Union of Castile and Aragon. 

IN ratification of the compromise which the nobles had 
extorted from the king, Henry met his sister at a place 
called "The Bulls of Giusanda," so designated from four 
bulls having been left there, sculptured in stone, in com- 
memoration of a victory achieved upon the spot by Julius 
Caesar. Henry and Isabella approached the place, each ac- 
companied by a splendid cortege. The king, who had no 
occasion to be dissatisfied with his sister, embraced her ten- 
derly, and, with imposing ceremonies, pledged to her the 
transmission of the crown. Soon after the Cortes assem- 
bled at Ocana, and Isabella was announced to all the courts 
of Europe as the successor to the thrones of Castile and 
Leon. 

The hand of Isabella was now in greater demand by the 
neighboring princes than ever before. Eichard, Duke of 
Gloucester, renowned in the annals of crime, brother of 
Henry TV. of England, sought, it is said, the ambitious al- 
liance, fortunately in vain. The Duke of Guienne also, 
brother of Louis XL of France, and heir-presumptive to 
the French monarchy, was eager, by marriage with Isabella, 



MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 147 

to unite the crowns of Castile and Leon with that of 
France. But this alliance, for political considerations, was 
rejected^ 

Isabella was quite disposed to consult her own inclina- 
tions, and her own sagacious judgment, in the choice of a 
husband, and she turned her eyes to her kinsman, Ferdi- 
nand of Aragon. The union of these two contiguous 
realms would indeed constitute a magnificent kingdom, 
homogeneous in language, manners, and religion. Ferdi- 
nand was also young, very handsome, of noble bearing, 
and decidedly chivalric in character— just the man to win 
an aspiring maiden's love. 

But nothing in this world ever ^"oes smoothly. The 
most successful life is made up of but a series of stern con- 
flicts. An influential portion of the nobles espoused the 
cause of the infant Joanna. They appealed to the Pope 
for aid, and in the night nailed up against the door of Isa- 
bella's palace a protest against her claims. At the same 
time another party appeared, demanding the hand of Isa- 
bella for Alfonso, the widowed King of Portugal. And it 
was proposed to secure the support of Henry for this alli- 
ance by marrying Joanna to the son and heir of the Portu- 
guese monarch. 

The King of Portugal was of course eager to annex Cas- 
tile to his throne. He accordingly, encouraged by the no- 
bles of Castile, dispatched a very imposing embassy, with 
the Archbishop of Lisbon at its head, to make another at- 
tempt to secure Isabella for his bride. But he was decid- 
edly rejected. Henry, goaded by his partisans, was much 
annoyed, and threatened to imprison his unyielding sister 
in the royal fortress at Madrid. But the citizens at Ocana, 
where she then resided, rallied around her for her protec- 



148 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

tion. The utmost enthusiasm was inspired in her behalf. 
Even the boys paraded the streets with banners emblazoned 
with the arms of Aragon, and singing songs contemptuous- 
ly contrasting the old King of Portugal with the youth 
and chivalry of Ferdinand. The Archbishop of Toledo, 
who was almost the rival of the king in wealth and power, 
entered warmly into the interests of Isabella and Ferdi- 
nand. The king was a man naturally good-natured, and 
more interested in his own sensual enjoyments than any 
thing else. He would probably have left his sister to her 
inclinations, had he not been urged onward by the haughty 
Marquis of Yillena, who had attained an entire ascendency 
over his weak mind. 

With these two factions it now became a struggle for 
power. Ferdinand would lavish the regal gifts of ofl&ce 
upon the bishop and his friends. The King of Portugal, 
on the contrary, would rally around his throne the marquis 
and his followers. As Henry had now violated unscrupu- 
lously the treaty of the Bulls of Griusando, Isabella consid- 
ered herself released from its obligations, and immediately, 
without consulting her brother any farther, accepted the 
proffered hand of Ferdinand. 

The marriage articles were signed on the 7th of January, 
1469. Isabella was aided in these movements by the ab- 
sence of her brother and the Marquis of Yillena, they both 
having been called to the south to suppress an insurrection. 
She removed her residence from Ocana to Madrigal, where, 
aided by a mother's sympathy, she was more favorably sit- 
uated for the conduct of her important negotiations. The 
Marquis of Yillena, however, kept a constant spy upon her, 
and, alarmed by the progress she was making in her plans, 
ordered, with the concurrence of the king, a troop of horse 



MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 149 

under the Archbishop of Seville to proceed to Madrigal 
and arrest her. 

Isabella, informed of her peril, succeeded in communi- 
cating with the Archbishop of Toledo, when he precipitate- 
ly rallied a regiment of dragoons, and advanced to Madri- 
gal with such speed as to anticipate the marquis. The 
placid yet determined maiden was borne off, in military 
triumph, to Yalladolid, where her arrival was greeted with 
unbounded enthusiasm by the whole population. Ferdi- 
nand was then residing at Saragossa, in Aragon, about two 
hundred miles east of Yalladolid. 

It was now the great object of the king to prevent Fer- 
dinand from entering Castile to marry Isabella. The King 
of Aragon was so sorely pressed by a war with some of his 
insurgent nobles, and his treasury was so exhausted that he 
could not afford his son an armed escort sufficient to secure 
his safety. Ferdinand adopted the resolution to go in dis- 
guise as a merchant, diverting the attention of Henry by 
making very ostentatious preparations to accompany a 
public embassy from the Court of Aragon to that of Cas- 
tile. 

The small part}^ of half a dozen merchants started on 
their adventurous expedition, Ferdinand assuming the 
dress and position of a servant, grooming the mules and 
serving at the table. To avoid observation, they travelled 
mostly by night. With great vigilance, and amidst a thou- 
sand perils, they pressed on their way, greatly embarrassed 
by losing one night at an inn the purse which contained 
all their money. At length they were met by an escort 
sent by Isabella for their protection. On the 9th of Octo- 
ber Ferdinand reached, Duenas, in Leon, where a large 
party of Castilian nobles, the friends of Isabella, with their 



150 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

retainers, were assembled to welcome him. The young 
prince, surrounded by such defenders, was now safe. 

Isabella, with her little court, was a few miles distant, at 
Yalladolid. Communications immediately passed between 
them, and on the evening of the 15th of October, Ferdinand, 
accompanied but by four attendants, rode privately from 
Duenas to Yalladolid, where he was received by the Arch- 
bishop of Toledo and conducted to the presence of Isabella. 
The young prince was exceedingly handsome, but eighteen 
years of age, tall, fair, and with an intellectual, expanded 
brow. He was well educated, temperate in all his habits, 
of courtly manners, and so devoted to useful activity that 
business seemed to be his pleasure. Isabella was nineteen 
years of age, a beautiful blonde, of queenly figure, exqui- 
sitely chiselled features, and with mild blue eyes. " She 
was," says a contemporary, " the handsomest lady whom I 
ever beheld, and the most gracious in her manners." 

Isabella was a highly educated woman for that day, 
speaking the Castilian language with much grace and pu- 
rity, and quite well versed in the current learning of those 
times. After a brief lover's interview of two hours, Ferdi- 
nand returned at midnight to Duenas. Preparations were 
immediately made for the marriage, and their nuptials were 
solemnized at the palace of one of the nobles in Yalladolid, 
on the morning of the 19th of October, 1469. 

Ferdinand having left home in disguise, and having lost 
his slender purse by the way, had not a copper. Isabella 
also, a fugitive from her brother's court, was equally un- 
prepared for the expenses of the wedding. They however, 
without difficulty, borrowed the sums which were necessa- 
ry ; and with splendor moderately conforming to their rank, 
in the presence of several of the highest of the nobility and 




QUEEN ISABELLA. 



MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 153 

about two thousand spectators, the life-long destinies of 
Ferdinand and Isabella were united. For a week Vallado- 
lid resounded with merry-making, and illuminations ren- 
dered the night as brilliant as the day. An embassy was 
sent to Henry lY., soliciting his approbation of the match, 
and repeating their assurances of loyalty. The king re- 
ceived the embassage very coldly, and replied, ''I must 
consult with my ministers." 

The Marquis of Yillcna and his party were thoroughly 
enraged at this circumvention of their plans. In the royal 
council it was decided to cast aside Isabella, and place the 
unhappy Joanna upon the throne. To strengthen the 
claims of the child, then but nine years of age, her hand 
was offered to the Duke of Guienne, one of the rejected 
suitors of Isabella, and brother to the infamous, but power- 
ful and sagacious Louis XI. of France. The gallantries of 
the queen had been so unblushing that Joanna was univer- 
sally regarded as the child of sin and shame. To obviate 
the inconvenience resulting from this impression, the king 
and queen took a solemn oath in public that Joanna was 
their legitimate offspring. Having submitted to this hu- 
miliation, the nobles, who were partisans of the king, took 
the oath of allegiance to Joanna, and she was solemnly af- 
fianced to the Duke of Guienne. 

This was a heavy blow to Isabella, for all the energies 
of the Court of Castile, together with the influence of the 
monarchy of France, were combined against her reign. 
Ferdinand and Isabella held their little court at Duenas in 
the most humble style, being, like many other less princely 
couples, exceedingly embarrassed by the emptiness of their 
purse. Still the Archbishop of Toledo, with his vast reve- 
nues and his exalted ecclesiastical rank, was a powerful 

7^ 



164: EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

friend. He was, however, haughty and domineering 
in the extreme, and so much disposed to use Ferdinand 
and Isabella as the tools for his own aggrandizement 
that, on one occasion, the young prince indignantly said to 
him, 

" I will never submit to be put into leading-strings, like 
so many of the sovereigns of Castile." 

In the midst of these intrigues Ferdinand received in- 
telligence that his father, with a small force in Perpignan, 
was sorely pressed by the armies of the King of France. 
He immediately, with the cordial approval of his heroic 
wife, placed himself at the head of a body of Castilian horse 
furnished by the Archbishop of Toledo, and, hastening to 
Aragon, raised an army of thirteen hundred cavalry and 
seven thousand infantry, with which he crossed the Pyre- 
nees in a pelting storm, and fell, like the sweep of the ava- 
lanche, upon the rear of the foe. The attack was so im- 
petuous and so unexpected that the French, setting fire to 
their tents, retreated in the utmost consternation, leaving 
their military stores, their sick, and their wounded, to be 
consumed by the flames. 

The father, with tears of gratitude and pride, embraced 
his heroic son, who had rescued him from destruction, and 
the two united armies fraternized in rapturous triumph 
within the walls of Perpignan. In the mean time the pros- 
pects of Isabella began to brighten. The Duke of Guienne, 
deeming Joanna's chance of obtaining the crown of Castile 
rather doubtful, sought the hand of the daughter of Charles, 
the Duke of Burgundy, in reckless contempt of his engage- 
ment with the Princess of Castile. Soon after this he was 
taken sick and died, under circumstances which left the 
impression that he was poisoned by his brother, Louis XI., 



MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 155 

a monarch who was capable of committing any crime, ap- 
parently, without a pang. 

Efforts were immediately made to negotiate a marriage 
for Joanna with some other prince who could support her 
claims with military power. These efforts were, however, 
unavailing, for the doubts which hung over the birth of the 
young princess operated with melancholy force against her. 
Isabella, on the other hand, by the-quiet energy of her char- 
acter, and the wisdom of all her movements, was continu- 
ally gaining friends from the most illustrious of the nobles. 

The Archbishop of Seville espoused her cause. An- 
drew of Cabrera was governor of the impregnable citadel 
of Segovia, where the royal treasure was deposited. He 
had married the spirited Beatrice of Bobadilla, that heroic 
woman who had threatened to poniard the debauched old 
master of Calatrava, should he dare to demand the hand of 
Isabella against her will. Beatrice influenced him to lend 
his support to the cause of her former mistress. It was 
necessary to move with much circumspection, for Henry 
IV. not unfrequently resided at Segovia, and Isabella would 
have much occasion to fear that any advances from that 
(parter were indicative of treachery. Isabella was at this 
time at Aranda, about fifty miles north from Segovia. Be- 
atrice dressed herself in the clothes of a peasant, and leav- 
ing the walls of the city by night, with her staff in her 
hand, through many romantic adventures reached the sa- 
loon of her astonished mistress, and gave her an invitation 
to go to Segovia, with full assurance of protection. Isa- 
bella did not hesitate to comply, and, accompanied by the 
Bishop of Toledo, she soon entered the iron portals of that 
battlemented castle, where even her royal brother would 
find it difficult to make a forcible entrance. 



156 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Here she, after a short time, had an interview with Hen- 
ry. He, a careless, good-natured man, devoted to sensual 
pleasures, was but a pliant tool in the hands of others. Cir- 
cumstances were now such that he easily became reconciled 
to his sister, manifesting his reconciliation by appearing 
with her in public, walking by. her side, and holding the 
bridle of her horse as she rode through the streets of the 
city. Ferdinand, upon kis return to Castile, was received 
by the monarch in Segovia with the utmost cordiality. 
Several days were devoted to gorgeous festivity, in testi- 
monial of the heartiness of the reconciliation. 

Not many weeks elapsed ere the other party got Henry 
IV. again into their power, and persuaded him to make an 
effort to seize the person of Isabella. In this attempt, how- 
ever, he was foiled. Four years of such intrigues passed 
away, during most of which time Castile was engaged in 
petty warfare against the Moors, and Aragon was embroiled 
in incessant conflicts against the perfidious King of France. 
Henry TV. was now far advanced in years, and, after a 
lingering and painful sickness, died, on the 11th of De- 
cember, 1474. After a brief season of hesitancy, the 
Castilian Cortes recognized Isabella as the successor to the 
crown. 

Isabella was at that time in Segovia, where she was im- 
mediately proclaimed queen with the usual solemnities. 
On the morning of the 13th of December she was conveyed, 
accompanied by a very splendid escort, under a canopy of 
rich brocade, to one of the public squares of the city, where 
a platform had been reared, with gorgeous adornings, for 
the ceremony of coronation. Isabella rode upon a beauti- 
ful steed, whose bridle was held by two of the high officers 
of the crown. As she took her seat upon the elevated 




THE CORONATION OF ISABELLA. 



MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 159 

throne, with the eyes of a countless multitude fixed upon 
her, a herald cried out, with a loud voice, 

"Castile, Castile for the king, Don Ferdinand, and his 
consort. Dona Isabella, queen proprietor of these kingdoms." 

This announcement was followed by the waving of ban- 
ners, the ringing of bells, the explosion of artillery, and the 
enthusiastic shouts of the people. The queen took the oath 
of office, and then repaired to the cathedral, where, after 
the chanting of the Te Deum, she prostrated herself before 
the altar and implored divine aid. 

Ferdinand was at this time in Aragon, and there was 
earnest discussion among the dignitaries of Castile respect- 
ing the share he might be permitted to take in the admin- 
istration of affairs. At length a document was very care- 
fully prepared, declaring that Isabella alone was heir to 
the throne of Castile, but associating Ferdinand with her 
in the performance of many of the acts of royalty. Ferdi- 
nand was so much displeased with this arrangement that 
Isabella had no little difiiculty in dissuading him from 
abandoning Castile and returning to his native Aragon. 

Though the great body of the Castilian nobles rallied 
around Isabella, still there were a few who adhered to the 
fortunes of Joanna. Some of these were lords, of immense 
resources, who could bring into the field large armies of 
retainers. Exasperated by the frustration of their plans, 
they applied to Alfonso Y. of Portugal, urging him to mar- 
ry his niece Joanna, and in her name to claim the crown, 
assuring him of their most cordial support. Alfonso, who 
had so signalized himself in the conflict with the Barbary 
Moors as to obtain the surname of the African, was so daz- 
zled by the brilliant proposal as to be quite blind to the 
difficulties of the enterprise. 



160 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

With an army of six hundred horse and fourteen thou- 
sand foot the chivalric King of Portugal invaded Castile, 
having sent before him a summons demanding the crown 
in favor of Joanna. The disaffected nobles, with their re- 
tainers in strong military array, met him at Placentia, 
taking with them Joanna, a child then but thirteen years 
of age. Here, on the 12th of May, 1475, the King of Por- 
tugal was solemnly afl&anced to the hapless maiden, and 
immediately the royal pair were proclaimed sovereigns of 
Castile. 

Isabella, with energy and heroism rarely surpassed, pre- 
pared to meet this storm. She often spent the whole night 
dictating dispatches. She performed long and fatiguing 
journeys on horseback to visit garrison towns and confirm 
the allegiance of the wavering, and this when in so delicate 
a state of health that she came very near paying her life as 
the forfeit. Ferdinand lent his zealous co-operation, and 
early in July they were at the head of what they deemed a 
sufficient force to offer battle to the foe. 

The two armies met at Toro, on the banks of the Douro, 
but about forty miles from the Portuguese frontier. On 
the morning of the 19th of July Ferdinand drew up his 
army, about forty-two thousand strong, before the walls of 
this renowned city of Leon, which Alfonso had captured. 
Ferdinand dispatched a herald to the camp of his foe, chal- 
lenging him to a fair fight with his whole army, or, if he 
preferred, to single combat. There was a brief space of 
diplomacy and manoeuvring, when Ferdinand found it 
necessary to retreat with the utmost precipitation. At the 
same time the haughty Bishop of Toledo, who had been 
exasperatad by some want of pliancy on the part of Ferdi- 
nand and Isabella to his wishes, joined Alfonso, at the head 



MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 161 

of five hundred horsemen, uttering at the same time the 
insulting threat, 

" I have raised Isabella from the distaff, and I will soon / 
send her back to it again." / 

During the whole summer the war was prosecuted with 
vigor, and with the usual alternations of success. Winter 
came, and still the hardy battalions kept the field. Early 
in March the two armies again met, for a decisive battle, 
on a plain between Toro and Zamara. There were, how- 
ever, such had been the waste and dispersion of war, but 
about ten thousand men on either side. The two monarchs 
in person led their several hosts, and inspired them with 
the most enthusiastic bravery. Man grappled his brother- 
man in a hand-to-hand fight along the whole line. It is 
said, in attestation of the fierceness of the struggle, that the 
royal banner of Portugal was torn to shreds, as the com- 
batants contested for it like famished wolves over a bone. 
The standard-bearer, Edward of Almeyda, having lost first 
his right arm and then his left, grasped the silken folds with 
his teeth, and held them with a gripe which death alone re- 
laxed. The armor of this knight was preserved for ages in 
the Church of Toledo, in memorial of this act of heroism. 

The Archbishop of Toledo on the one side, and the 
Cardinal of Mendoza on the other, exchanging sacerdotal 
robes for steel corslet, struck as sturdy blows as any belted 
knight upon the plain. Every sinew being strained to its 
utmost capacity, the strife was too desperate to last long. 
A storm rose ; night blackened the sky ; a deluge of rain 
fell, and a gale swept the field, strewed with the dead, and 
flooded with mingled water and blood. The Portuguese 
now were utterly routed, and escaped total destruction only 
by taking refuge in the darkness and the tempest. 



162 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The morning exhibited a dreadful spectacle. Multi- 
tudes of the fugitives were drowned in the swollen tor- 
rent of the Toro. The peasants had stripped the ghastly 
bodies of the slain, and smote down mercilessly all the 
Portuguese soldiers who could be found in th.eir dispersion. 
Ferdinand displayed humanity quite unusual in those days, 
in his endeavors to arrest these horrors. He treated all 
his prisoners magnanimously, providing them with food 
and clothing, and securing their safe return to their own 
country. 

Isabella was at Tordisillas, on the river, about twenty 
miles above Toro, anxiously awaiting the result of the bat- 
tle. Upon receiving tidings of the decisive victory, in ex- 
pression of gratitude to Heaven she ordered a procession 
to the Church of St. Paul, in which she walked barefooted, 
and in the garb of a penitent. 

All the wavering now flocked to the banners of Isa- 
bella. Many of the insurgent nobles implored pardon, and 
were forgiven. The Bishop of Toledo and the Marquis of 
Yillena had sinned too deeply to be thus easily pardoned. 
Their castles were battered down, their most important 
towns captured, their revenues sequestrated, their vassals 
taken from them, and then, thus despoiled and humiliated, 
their pride was still more abased by an act of forgiveness. 
But a few months passed ere the whole kingdom of Castile 
acknowledged the supremacy of Ferdinand and Isabella. 

Alfonso, taking Joanna, his " virgin bride," with him, 
repaired to the Court of Louis XL of France, to seek his 
aid in a renewal of the strife. With a small but brilliant 
retinue of two hundred knights, he galloped over the hills 
of France to the court of the French king. For a year he 
exhausted all the arts of diplomacy in the attempt to se- 



MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 163 

cure the alliance of tlie crafty and treacherous monarch, 
when, to his utter dismay, he found that Louis XI., while 
deluding him with the most shameless guile, had at the 
same time been entering into a confederacy with his mor- 
tal foes, Ferdinand and Isabella. 

Alfonso was so chagrined that he had been thus duped, 
and was so anno3^ed at the thought of the ridicule he 
would be sure to encounter on his return to Portugal, that, 
with a few attendants, he secretly withdrew to a castle in 
Normandy, surrendering the crown to his son John. In 
renunciation of the throne, he wrote as follows to his son : 

"As all earthly vanities are now dead in my bosom, I 
am resolved to lay up an imperishable crown by perform- 
ing a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. I shall then devote 
myself to the service of God in some retired monastery. I 
beg you, my son, to assume the sovereignty at once in the 
same manner as if you had heard of your father's death." 

John not unwillingly assumed the crown. In five days 
after his coronation, to his surprise, and probably not a lit- 
tle to his annoyance, a fleet of French ships put in at Lis- 
bon, and Alfonso, with his attendants, was politely sent 
ashore. Louis XL, the most executive of monarchs, with 
all the courtesy consistent with the necessary violence, had 
sent the Portuguese sovereign back to his dominions. 

It is said that John was walking with some of his no- 
bles upon the banks of the Tagus, when he received the 
unwelcome tidings of his father's return. He seemed 
struck with dismay, and, after a moment's reflection, turn- 
ed to the Archbishop of Lisbon and said, 

" How ought I to receive him ?" 

"How," the archbishop replied, "but as your king and 
father?" 



164 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Jolin knit his brows, and, nervously picking up -a stone, 
skimmed it over the water. The archbishop whispered to 
the Duke of Braganza, 

" I shall take good care that that stone does not re- 
bound upon me." 

John, upon further reflection, peaceably resigned the 
sceptre to his father, and in chagrin abandoned Portugal 
and took up his residence in Kome. Alfonso, with renew- 
ed desperation, commenced warfare against Castile, hoping, 
by the performance of feats hitherto unparalleled in chival- 
ry, to repair the reputation he had lost. Sallying from his 
castles with steel-clad knights, he ravaged the western fron- 
tiers of Castile, burning mansions, robbing granaries, driv- 
ing off cattle, trampling down harvests, and performing all 
other similar chivalric deeds, until a large portion of the 
province of Estremadura presented a smouldering expanse 
of desolation. 

Ferdinand had been summoned from Castile to meet his 
father, the King of Aragon, upon business of momentous 
importance at Biscay. Isabella hastened to the seat of 
war, and established her head-quarters at Truxillo, where 
she could most easily direct operations, though the posi- 
tion exposed her to much personal peril. To the remon- 
strances of her friends she replied, 

"It is not for me to calculate perils or fatigues in my 
own cause. I will not by unseasonable timidity, dishearten 
my friendSo I am resolved to remain with them until the 
war is brought to a conclusion." 

At length a reconciliation was effected between Alfonso 
and Isabella through the mediation of the sister-in-law of 
the Portuguese king, who was the maternal aunt of Isabella. 
By this treaty Alfonso renounced his claim to the crown of 



MARRIAGE OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 165 

Castile and to the hand of Joanna. Ferdinand and Isabella 
had at this time a daughter, and also a son who was an in- 
fant. Poor Joanna was required to make her election, 
either to engage to marry this infant John so soon as he 
should be of a marriageable age, or to go into exile, or to 
retire to a convent and take the veil. Alonzo, one of the 
sons of the King of Portugal, was also affianced to Isabella, 
the daughter of the Castilian sovereigns. 

Thus terminated the war of the succession in the signal 
triumph of Isabella. Joanna, youthful as she was, had be- 
come utterly weary of the world, and she decided to seek 
escape from all further storms by burying herself in the 
seclusion of the cloister. Taking upon herself the irrevo- 
cable vows, the unhappy princess descended into those 
tombs of an ever-living death. Alfonso himself, bitterly 
disappointed in his ambitious plans, soon after imitated the 
example of Joanna, and, renouncing the joyless sceptre, en- 
tered the bleak monastery of Yaratojo. He was suddenly 
seized by illness, and expired on the 28th of August, 1481. 

A few months before this event, on the 20th of January, 
1479, the King of Aragon died, in the eighty-third year of 
his age ; and all the extensive dependencies of Aragon, 
including Navarre, which the grasping old king had an- 
nexed to his domains without the shadow of justice, passed 
into the hands of Ferdinand. Aragon and Castile were 
thus united, and the foundations were laid of that great 
Spanish monarchy which ere long became the leading 
power in Europe. 



166 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



CHAPTER YIII. 

THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 

(From 1483 A.D. to 1492 a.d.) 

The Siege and Capture of Malaga. — Chivalry of Ferdinand. — Desperation of the 
Moors. — Terms of Capitulation. — Doom of the Captives. — Siege of Baza. — 
Influence of the Queen. — Brilliant Pageant. — The Affiance of the Infanta 
Isabella. — The Tournament. — Siege of Granada. — Chivalric Encounters. — 
Santa Fe. — The Fall of Granada. — The Extinction of the Moorish Empire in 
Spain. 

FERDINAND and Isabella now commenced vigorously 
the enterprise of conquering Granada, and of thus ex- 
pelling the Moors from their last foothold in Spain. The 
city of Malaga, on the coast of the Mediterranean, was per- 
haps the strongest of the Moorish fortified towns. It was 
a beautiful morning in April, 1487, when Ferdinand, at the 
head of a formidable host of forty thousand infantry and 
twelve thousand cavalry, marched from the fair city of Cor- 
dova upon this renowned campaign. The most chivalric 
nobles of his realm, on gayly-caparisoned chargers, had 
gathered from all quarters of the kingdom to join the en- 
terprise. In that warm and sunny clime April has all the 
charms of June in higher latitudes. The fields were full 
of verdure and bloom, and the groves resounded with bird- 
songs. The inhabitants of Cordova were assembled to wit- 
ness the departure of the troops, and greeted them, as they 
defiled through the streets, with acclamations. 

The march, through a wild and hilly country, was slow, 
as the roads were bad, and the rivers were swollen with 
excessive rains. On the 17th of April the Spanish army 



THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 167 

sat down before one of the outposts of Malaga, called 
Yelez-Malaga. The Moors were aware of the importance 
of this position, and had stationed a very strong force for 
its defense. Clouds of soldiers were seen mustering along 
the heights by day, and their innumerable camp-fires illu- 
mined the horizon b}^ night. The Moors were as brave as 
the Christians, and as ably led by their heroic chieftains. 
The battle on both sides was fiercely urged with ambus- 
cades and nocturnal sallies, and every other artifice of the 
most desperate warfare. 

One day Ferdinand was dining in his tent, where he 
commanded a wide view of the field of conflict, when he 
saw a party of Christians, who had been sent to fortify an 
eminence near the enemy's works, retreating in disorder, 
hotly pursued by a squadron of Moors. The impetuous 
king leaped upon his horse, and though divested of all de- 
fensive armor except his cuirass, raUied his men, and, 
placing himself at their head, charged gallantly into the 
midst of the enemy. Having thrown his lance, he endeav- 
ored to draw his sword from its scabbard, which. hung from 
the saddle-bow. By some accidental indentation the sword 
was held fast, so that he could not extricate it. 

Just then several Moors fell fiercely upon him. He 
would inevitably have been slain but for the prompt action 
of two brave cavaliers who, with their attendants, rushed 
to his rescue, and, after a severe skirmish, drove off the as- 
sailants. The nobles remonstrated with the king against 
such wanton exposure of his person, saying that he could 
serve them far more effectually with his head than with his 
hand. Ferdinand replied, in words which endeared him to 
the whole army, " I can not stop to calculate chances when 
my subjects are perilling their lives for my sake." 



168 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Yelez-Malaga, after a siege of ten days, fell into the 
hands of Ferdinand. Then the Spanish army pressed tri- 
umphantly forward to the assault of Malaga itself. This 
city was second only to Granada, the capital of the Moorish 
kingdom. Enjoying one of the finest harbors upon the 
Mediterranean, it was the seat of opulence and refinement. 
In architectural splendor it was unsurpassed, its splendid 
mansions being surrounded with gardens blooming with 
flowers and sparkling with fountains. A series of fortifi- 
cations of massive strength surrounded the city. The sub- 
urbs presented a delightful expanse of gardens fragrant 
with groves of pomegranate, olive, and orange, while vast 
vineyards, rich in time of vintage with blushing grapes, 
everywhere met the eye. The city was well provisioned, 
and abundantly supplied with artillery and ammunition. A 
renowned Moorish warrior, Hamet Zeli, was intrusted with 
the defense of the city, and the place was garrisoned by 
picked men, veterans in the hardships and the horrors of war. 

Ferdinand first attempted to induce a capitulation by 
making very liberal offers to the Moorish commander and 
his garrison. The heroic reply was returned, "I am sta- 
tioned here to defend the place to the last extremity. The 
Christian king can not offer a bribe large enough to induce 
me to betray my trust." 

By gradual approaches, Ferdinand encompassed the city 
by land and by sea. In these encounters Christian and 
Moor frequently fought with desperation which could not 
have been surpassed by human valor or mortal sinews. 
Often they threw away their lances, precipitated themselves 
upon each other, and grappling, rolled in the death-strug- 
gle over the ground and down the ravines. Neither party 
either asked for mercy or granted it. 



THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 169 

Early in May the Christian host had gained all the im- 
portant points, so that the beleaguered city was encompassed 
with bristling lines extending over the hills and the valleys 
from the sea below to the sea above. At the same time a 
Spanish fleet blockaded the port, so as effectually to cut 
off all communication by water. 

We will not attempt to describe the slow operations of 
the siege, the breaches, the assaults, the repulses, the inva- 
sion of the plague, the hopes, and the many fears. At last 
Ferdinand, to cheer his soldiers, who were beginning to 
despond, sent fgr Isabella to join him. The young and 
beautiful queen, with a brilliant train of ladies and cava- 
liers, repaired to the camp of Ferdinand. An imposing- 
escort was sent out to meet her, and she was conducted 
with great magnificence of parade and with every demon- 
stration of joy to the quarters prepared for her. The pres- 
ence of the queen not only inspired the soldiers with new 
hopes, but induced gallant young men from all quarters to 
throng the camp. It was the age of chivalry, and thou- 
sands were eager to fight beneath the eye and to win the 
smile of a queenly woman. 

The assault was now renewed with heavier ordnance, 
and more fiercely than ever. The Moors, conscious that 
the fall of Malaga would probably prove to them a fatal 
blow, fought with all the desperation which pride or relig- 
ious zeal could inspire. The determination of the com- 
batants may be inferred from the following incident: 

A party of Moors attempted to hew their way through 
the Christian lines into the city. A few succeeded. Many 
were cut to pieces. One was made prisoner. He begged 
to be conducted to the tent of Ferdinand and Isabella, as 
he could communicate important information. He was led 

8 



170 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

to the royal tent. It was early in the afternoon, and Fer- 
dinand was taking a nap. The queen deferred the audi- 
ence until her husband should awake, and directed the cap- 
tive to be conducted to an adjoining tent. 

It so happened that this tent was occupied by Isabella's 
intimate friend, Dona Beatrice de Bobadilla, the heroic lady 
of whom we have above spoken, who threatened to poniard 
the infamous grand-master of Calatrava if he should ven- 
ture to appear demanding Isabella for his bride. Beatrice 
was conversing with a Portuguese nobleman. The Moor 
/ did not understand the Castilian languagjCo Deceived by 
the rich attire, the regal figures, and the courtly bearing of 
these personages, he mistook them for Ferdinand and Isa- 
bella. 

Watching his opportunity, while pretending to refresh 
himself with a glass of water, he drew a concealed dagger 
from beneath his mantle, and, darting upon the nobleman, 
gave him a severe wound in the head. Then, springing 
like a panther upon Beatrice, he endeavored to bury the 
dagger to its hilt in her side. Fortunately the point was 
turned by the heavy embroidery of her robes, and she was 
saved from death. Attendants, alarmed by the shrieks of 
Beatrice, rushed upon the wretch, and he was instantly cut 
down. His mangled remains an hour after were hurled, 
by a ponderous catapult, through the air and over the walls 
into the city. The Moors took barbaric revenge by imme- 
diately slaying a Spanish gentleman, binding the bloody 
corpse astride a mule, and driving the animal, thus laden, 
out of the gates into the Christian camp. 

Famine at length commenced its hideous reign in the 
crowded streets of Malaga. An incessant cannonade had 
consumed most of the ammunition of the besieged. From 



THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 171 

all parts of the peninsula Spanish volunteers swarmed to 
swell the ranks of the besieging army, till their numbers 
amounted, according to different estimates, from sixty to 
ninety thousand men. Keligious discipline was rigorously 
enacted. Neither oaths nor gambling were allowed, and 
all women of immoral character were banished from the 
lines. The exercises of religion, in accordance with the 
rites of the Eoman Catholic Church, were performed with 
the most imposing splendor. 

Ferdinand, yielding to the solicitations of the queen to 
spare as much as possible the lives of his soldiers, had en- 
deavored to starve the garrison into submission, avoiding 
the slaughter which would inevitably attend an assault. 
But as the months rolled on, and there were no signs of 
capitulation, preparations were made to storm the works. 
Immense towers were built on wheels, to be rolled up to 
the ramparts. Galleries were dug to sap the walls. But 
the Moors were as vigilant as the Christians were enter- 
prising. Along the ramparts, underneath the ground, and 
upon the sea the battle raged without intermission. The 
Moors, by the desperation of their defense, won the admira- 
tion of their enemies. "Who," exclaims one of the Chris- 
tian annalists of the times, "does not marvel at the bold 
heart of these infidels in battle, their prompt obedience to 
their chiefs, their dexterity in the wiles of war, their pa- 
tience under privation, and undaunted perseverance in their 
purposes !" 

Gradually the Christians gained ground until they suc- 
ceeded in blowing up a tower, and thus obtaining a pass 
into the city. Three months of the siege had passed away. 
The citizens of Malaga, suffering from famine and pesti- 
lence, were in despair. For some time they had been liv- 



172 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ing upon nothing but the flesh of horses, dogs, and cats. 
Many were dying in the streets. Everywhere there was 
presented the most appalling aspect of starvation, misery, 
and death. The inhabitants demanded capitulation. In 
view of their sufferings, Hamet Zeli humanely gave the 
citizens permission to make the best terms they could with 
their conqueror. A deputation was accordingly sent to 
the Christian camp; but Ferdinand would listen to no 
terms but unconditional surrender. 

After a tumultuous debate, in which counsels were in- 
spired by despair, the deputation returned to Ferdinand 
with the declaration that they were willing to resign to him 
the city, the fortifications, and all the property, if he would 
spare their lives and give them their freedom. 

" If these terms are refused," said they, " we will take 
the six hundred Christian captives who are in our hands, 
and hang them like dogs over the battlements. We will 
then inclose our old men, women, and children in the fort- 
ress, set fire to the town, and sell our lives as dearly as 
possible in the attempt to cut our way through our ene- 
mies. Thus, if you gain £. victory, it shall be such a one 
as will make the name of Malaga ring throughout the world 
to ages yet unborn." 

Unintimidated by these threats, Ferdinand firmly re- 
plied, " If a single hair of a Christian's head is harmed, I 
will put to the sword every man, woman, and child in the 
city." 

The whole population anxiously thronged the gates to 
hear the reply of the embassy on its return. Grioom and 
despair sat upon every countenance. Some in their frenzy 
were in favor of resorting to the most violent measures. 
But in the end moderate councils prevailed, and it was de- 



THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 173 

cided to cast themselves upon the mercy of Ferdinand. 
The city was unconditionally surrendered. The Spanish 
troops, in all the triumphant pageantry of war, entered the 
city, and the banners of Christian Spain were proudly un- 
furled from all its towers. 

It was the eighteenth day of August, 1487. Ferdinand 
and Isabella, with great military and ecclesiastical pomp, 
repaired to the cathedral, where the Te Deum was for the 
first time performed within its walls, and the whole Span- 
ish army prostrated itself in ceremonial adoration before 
the Lord of hosts. The Christian captives were liberated 
from the Moorish dungeons. Dreadful was the spectacle 
they presented. All eyes were bathed in tears, as this 
baud of sufferers, haggard, emaciate, heavily manacled 
with chains, were brought from the dark cells, where many 
of them had lingered for ten or fifteen years, and were led 
into the presence of the sovereigns who had redeemed 
them. They were addressed by Ferdinand and Isabella in 
kindest words of sympathy, and were dismissed with rich 
presents. 

The heroic chieftain, Zegri, who had so gallantly de- 
fended the place, was brought, loaded with fetters, to the 
tent of his conquerors. Upon being asked why he had so 
obstinately persisted in his rebellion, he replied, " Because 
I was commissioned to defend the place to the last extrem- 
ity. And if I had been properly supported, I would have 
died sooner than have surrendered." 

And now came the doom pronounced by the Christian 
upon the Moor. The whole population of the city, men, 
women, and children, were assembled in the great square. 
The surrounding ramparts, overlooking the scene, were 
garrisoned by the Spanish soldiers. First, the whole pop- 



174 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Illation of the city was consigned to perpetual slavery. 
Then one-third of these slaves was selected to be sent to 
Africa in exchange for an equal number of Christian cap- 
tives detained there. Another portion was sold to the high- 
est bidders, to obtain indemnity for the expenses of the 
war. The remainder were distributed to friends of the 
court. The Holy Father at Eome received a gift of one 
hundred carefully selected Moorish soldiers, whom he in- 
corporated into his guard, and whom he succeeded by ar- 
gument, menaces, or bribes, more probably by all united, 
to convert into " good Christians." 

The Moorish girls were renowned for their personal 
loveliness. Fifty of the most beautiful damsels were sent 
by Isabella as a present to the Queen of Naples, and thirty 
were sent to the Queen of Portugal. Thus the whole pop- 
ulation of Malaga was disposed of. All the property of the 
victims, whether consisting of lands, jewels, or plate, were 
seized by the Crown. It is estimated that the population 
within the walls of Malaga at the time of the capture 
amounted to not less than twenty thousand. Humanity 
recoils in view of the utter ruin which thus overwhelmed 
them. And yet their doom, dreadful as it appears, was 
deemed mild, in the estimate of that barbaric age. It is 
said that Isabella was urged by her spiritual guides to put 
every man, woman, and child to the sword, as a warning 
to others. When we reflect that not four hundred years 
have elapsed since such scenes were enacted by the very 
best court then in Europe, it must be admitted that the 
world has made progress. 

Malaga, thus depopulated, was immediately filled again 
with the subjects of Isabella. The tide of Christian popu- 
lation flowed rapidly into the city, as houses and lands 



THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 175 

were freely given to those who would take possession of 
them. The Spanish soldiers, elate with the success of their 
brilliant campaign, returned to Cordova, there to enjoy a 
winter's repose, and to prepare to resume their conquests 
in the spring. 

In the autumn the royal couple made a visit to Ferdi- 
nand's kinojdom of Arao-on. Earlv in the summer of the 
next year Ferdinand took the command of a small army of 
twenty thousand, and directed his march from the east upon 
the city of Granada, the capital of the Moorish kingdom of 
the same name. The campaign was a failure. The Chris- 
tians were driven back, and the exasperated Moors pursued 
them into their own territories, plundering and destroying 
in all directions. Undismayed by this reverse, Ferdinand 
and Isabella prepared to prosecute the war, in the following 
year, on a grander scale. An army of eighty thousand in- 
fantry and fifteen thousand cavalry was collected. The 
cavalry was composed of the highest nobility of the realm, 
knights who, magnificently mounted and attended by state- 
ly retinues, composed a military arm which has never had 
its superior. 

The advance of this host was first upon Baza from the 
east. As the Christian troops surmounted the summit of the 
ridge of hills which border the west of the beautiful valley 
in which the city reposes, they were charmed with the 
vision of loveliness which was spread out before them. 
The city, brilliant in the gorgeous display of Moorish archi- 
tecture, was encompassed with groves, gardens, and villas, 
which were rendered doubly attractive at the time by the 
bloom and verdure of opening summer. The fortifications 
of the city were of great strength. Twenty thousand dis- 
ciplined men garrisoned them. The town was victualled 



176 EOMAI^CE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

for fifteen months, and the troops were ordered to hold it 
to the last extremity. 

The Moors bravely sallied from their walls to meet the 
Christians upon the fields in front of the city, in the midst 
of gardens, pleasure-houses, precipitous ravines, and dense 
masses of foliage. The battle raged for twelve hours, the 
troops being often lost in groves and valleys, from the view 
of their commanders, and frequently engaging in a hand- 
to-hand combat. Gradually the Moors were driven back 
behind their intrenchments, and the Christians encamped 
upon the field. The conflict had however been so severe 
and sanguinary that, in the morning, Ferdinand found it 
necessary to withdraw his troops to their former position, 
and to convene a council of war. The council advised, in 
view of the difficulties which had been developed, to aban- 
don the siege of Baza until some of the surrounding places 
had been captured. Ferdinand, fully conscious of the com- 
manding mental endowments of the Queen, sent dispatches 
to her at Jaen, soliciting her opinion. The reply she re- 
turned was so encouraging in its tone and so cogent in 
argument, that it reanimated all hearts. 

New vigor was immediately infused into the whole 
Christian army. Four thousand troops, carefully protect- 
ed from assault, were employed in cutting down thp groves; 
trenches were dug, ramparts reared, and the city on one 
side was thus completely invested. Still the work went 
on. In less than two months, by herculean labor, an un- 
broken line of circumvallation was constructed around the 
whole city. In the mean time there were daily skirmishes 
and chivalric personal encounters between the equally 
brave and high-spirited knights on either side. 

The summer passed away, and the cool breezes of au- 



THE CONQUEST OF GKANADA. 177 

tumn came, foreboding the chill gales and driving rains of 
winter. Ferdinand ordered a thousand huts to be built for 
his soldiers. Suddenly a city sprang up of apparently 
substantial dwellings, with its streets and squares laid out 
in regular order. The inhabitants of Baza gazed with 
amazement upon the vision which seemed, as if by magic, 
to unfold itself before them. Engaged in these works, and 
in almost an incessant battle, five months had glided swift- 
ly away. 

And now the black and menacing clouds of winter be- 
gan to gather upon the brows of the mountains. Provi- 
dence seemed to bring its battalions to the aid of the Moors. 
A tempest of terrible severity swept the plains, tearing 
into shreds the canvas tents which remained standing, 
and sweeping away many of the more substantial edifices 
reared for the soldiers. The rain fell in floods, and, rush- 
ing down the rocky sides of the mountains, inundated the 
camp of the besiegers. The roads were so gullied as to be 
rendered almost impassable, and for a time the line of com- 
munication between Jaen and the army of Ferdinand was 
completely cut off". 

The energetic queen was ever at hand in hours of dis- 
aster. She immediately dispatched six thousand pioneers 
to repair the roads by constructing causeways, rebuilding 
bridges, and filling up the gullies. Two roads were soon 
in good condition, along which Isabella forwarded ample 
supplies to her husband. She also raised large loans to 
meet the expenses of the war, and even pawned the crown 
jewels and her own personal ornaments. 

But no signs of despondency appeared among the be- 
sieged. They had an ample supply of provisions, and 
their courage was unwavering. The Moorish women man- 

8'^ 



178 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ifested as mucTi zeal in defense of their cause as even Isa- 
bella had exhibited in behalf of the Christian banners. At 
length the Spanish troops began to despond, and Isabella 
was sent for to revive their waning courage by her pres- 
ence. On the 7th of November, the queen, accompanied 
by her daughter Isabella, several ladies of honor, a choir 
of beautiful maidens, and a brilliant escort, entered the 
camp of Ferdinand. 

The inhabitants of Baza crowded their walls and towers, 
to gaze upon the glittering pageant as it wound its way 
through the defiles of the mountains and emerged upon 
the plain, with gold- embroidered banners and strains of 
martial music. The Spanish cavaliers sallied forth in a 
body from their camp, to receive their beloved queen and 
to greet her with an enthusiastic reception. The presence 
of this extraordinary woman, in whose character there was 
combined, with feminine grace, so much of manly self-reli- 
ance and energy, not only reanimated the drooping spirits 
of the besiegers, but convinced the besieged that the Span- 
ish army would never withdraw until the place was sur- 
rendered. Though there was no want of food for the be- 
leaguered Moors, their ammunition was nearly expended, 
and the garrison was greatly reduced by sickness, wounds, 
and death. 

Soon after the arrival of the queen, the Moorish garri- 
son, much to the joy, and not a little to the surprise of 
Ferdinand, proposed to capitulate. So eager was the king 
to get possession of the place without a continuation of the 
struggle, that he acceded to terms of capitulation which al- 
lowed the garrison to march out with the honors of war, 
and the citizens to retire with their personal property wher- 
ever they pleased. On the 4th of December, 1489, Ferdi- 



THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 179 

nand and Isabella took possession of Baza, celebrating their 
great victory with all the most imposing pageants of civil, 
religious, and military display. 

The fall of Baza secured the surrender of many other 
of the most important strongholds of the Moors in the east- 
ern part of the kingdom of Granada. Thus the campaign 
was so eminently successful, as not only to elate all Chris- 
tian Spain, but also to send a thrill of joy throughout 
Christendom. In the spring of the year 1490 the queen's 
eldest child, Isabella, was affianced to Alonso, heir to the 
crown of Portugal. Isabella was a tender mother, and 
so fondly loved this gentle and affectionate child that the 
thought of separation from her was exceedingly painful. 

The ceremony of affiance took place at Seville, in the 
midst of rejoicings which were magnified by the triumph- 
ant campaign from which Ferdinand and Isabella had but 
just returned. The fetes which were got up in honor of 
the occasion attracted to Seville a very brilliant assembly 
of high-born ladies and renowned cavaliers from all parts 
of the' peninsula. A smooth and beautiful plain upon the 
banks of the Guadalquiver was selected as the arena for 
the chivalric display. Galleries of ascending seats were 
reared, draped with satin and cloth of gold, and sheltered 
from the sun by silken awnings richly embroidered with 
the armorial bearings of the old Castilian families. 

The spectacle was as brilliant as the art and opulence 
of the fifteenth century could create. Isabella, with the 
beautiful young bride, occupied the central position. They 
were attended by seventy of the noblest ladies of the realm 
in splendid and costly attire, while a hundred pages, fresh 
and blooming, in picturesque costume, augmented the fairy- 
like character of the scene. The tournament was thronged 



180 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

by the proudest cavaliers of Castile and Aragon, old and 
young, magnificently mounted, and with long trains of fol- 
lowers. Ferdinand himself, who was alike renowned for 
bravery, horsemanship, and military prowess, broke several 
lances on the occasion. 

In the evening the somewhat perilous feats of mimic 
warfare gave place to the more effeminate pleasures of 
music and dancing. After long familiarity with the stern 
hardships of war, all seemed to enjoy the return to scenes 
of festivity. The young, beautiful, and loving bride was 
escorted by a splendid retinue to Portugal. Her dowry 
was so great as to attract the special and admiring remark 
of the chroniclers of those times. Her husband, the princ6 
Alonso, was young, chivalric, affectionate, and the heir of 
an important crown. But man is born to mourn. The 
palace as well as the cottage is exposed to the inevitable 
doom, 

"Sorrow is for the sons of men, 
And weeping for earth's daughters." 

But a few months passed away, ere Alonso was thrown 
from his horse, fatally wounded, and soon died. Isabella 
was left, a heart-broken widow, with every joy of earth 
blighted. 

Granada, the capital of the Moorish kingdom, was still 
in the hands of the Moors ; and, upon the withdrawal of 
the armies of Ferdinand, many other strong places, which 
had for a time bowed to his supremacy, assumed the atti- 
tude of revolt. Ferdinand again raised an army, variously 
estimated at from fifty to eighty thousand horse and foot, 
and on the 26th of April, 1491, encamped within six miles 
of the battlements of Granada. Scenes of war's pomp and 
pageantry, as well as of its misery, ensued, which have 



THE CONQUEST OF GllANADA. Ibi 

tasked the pens of the historian and of the poet, and to 
which the artist has in vain endeavored to do justice on 
canvas. 

Abdallah, the king of the Spanish Moors, was in per- 
sonal command at Granada. The city was admirably sit- 
uated for defense, and was supported by the strongest 
fortresses which the military art of the time could rear. 
Crowded by immigration from the surrounding country, 
the city presented a population of two hundred thousand 
souls. Twenty thousand of the proudest and the bravest 
of the Moslem cavaliers, who had passed through the perils 
of innumerable battles, aided in garrisoning the works. A 
wild, rugged mountain barrier, whose summits were white 
with ice and snow, protected the city upon the south. On 
the north, an undulating plain, blooming 'with flowers, rich 
in gardens, groves, and vineyards, spread out, over a dis- 
tance of thirty leagues, towards the setting sun. The tow- 
ers and walls of the city, facing this plain, were of such 
massive solidity as seemed to bid defiance to any assault. 

Upon this arena the most attractive exhibitions of hu- 
man nature — heroism, chivalric courtesy, and magnanimity 
— were blended with the most revolting scenes of destruc* 
tion and carnage, investing the fall of Granada with death- 
less renown. At times a company of Moors, incased in 
steel, mounted upon the proudest Arabian chargers, would 
ride forth from the gates, while bugle-blasts echoed over 
the hills and plains, and challenge an equal number of 
Christian knights to mortal combat. Promptly the defi- 
ance was ever met. The housetops, battlements, and tow- 
ers of Granada would be crowded with interested specta- 
tors, gazing upon the exciting spectacle. Both armies 
would lean upon their weapons, awaiting, without any 



182 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

interference, the issue of the strife, until the one party or 
the other was destroyed. Again a single knight, glittering 
in armor, and mounted upon a steed proudly caparisoned, 
would ride forth from the ranks of the Christians, and chal- 
lenge any Moorish cavalier to meet him in single combat. 

The level ground in front of the walls of Granada was 
the arena where these warriors, inspired by the highest 
principles of honor, met to display their prowess in the 
presence of both armies. The ladies of the two hostile 
courts each cheered their respective champion with smiles, 
as they awaited, with throbbing hearts, the event of the 
conflict, which was always the death of the one or the oth- 
er. The victor retired, amidst shouts of applause from his 
friends, with the horse and the accoutrements of his slain 
antagonist, as the trophies of his victory. 

Isabella witnessed all these scenes from the Spanish 
camp. She was accompanied by her children, and ever at- 
tended by a train of courtly ladies, selected for their birth 
and beauty, and embellished with the most picturesque 
and richest costume of the day. The memory of these 
brilliant yet deadly tourneys still inspires the songs of the 
Castilians. 

" The Spanish ballads glow with picturesque details of 
these knightly tourneys, forming the most romantic min- 
strelsy, which, celebrating the prowess of Moslem as well 
as Christian warriors, sheds a dying glory round the last 
hours of Granada."^ 

Isabella took an active part in all the military opera- 
tions, developing martial genius which commanded the re- 
spect of her ablest chieftains. She often appeared upon 
the field mounted on a splendid steed and incased in full 

' Prescott. 



THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 183 

armor, inspiring, wherever she appeared, the enthusiasm 
of the troops. Upon one occasion an accident occurred 
which came near proving fatal to the life of the queen. 
It was a sultry night in July. The blazing sun of South- 
ern Spain had so thoroughly dried all combustible matter 
as to convert the camp into a tinder-box which a spark 
would throw into flame. 

Isabella occupied a pavilion very richly draped with 
flowing hangings. A gust of wind blew some fringe into 
the flame of a lamp, and the whole pavilion was almost 
instantly in a blaze. It was midnight. All were asleep 
except the sentinels. The trumpet immediately sounded 
to arms. It was supposed that the Moors had made a 
sortie. Instantly, with clang of weapons and loud outcries, 
both hosts rushed to their appointed positions marshalled 
for battle. The flames, fanned by the wind, spread from 
tent to tent with fearful rapidity, and the peril for a time 
was great that the whole camp would vanish in a general 
conflagration. The queen and her children were rescued 
with the greatest difficulty. At length the fire was extin- 
guished. But nearly all the tents of the nobility, which 
surrounded the pavilion of the queen, were destroyed, and 
with them a vast amount of property in jewels, plate, and 
other costly decorations. 

To guard against the recurrence of such a calamity, the 
king ordered a city to be built of substantial houses upon 
the spot occupied by his army. Only enough soldiers were 
reserved from the work to act as a guard. Every other 
man was employed in the peaceful labor of creating, not 
destroying. In three months a large and stately city arose, 
with its substantial houses, stables, gardens, its broad ave- 
nues, its thronged, thoroughfares. The soldiers wished to 



184 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY^ 

call it Isabella. But the queen, modestly declining the 
honor, named it Santa Fe, in devout recognition of her 
faith in Divine ProvidencCo The city still stands, a monu- 
ment of the martial energies of those times, "the only city," 
writes a Spanish annalist, " which has never been contami- 
nated by the Moslem heresy." 

As this city, in its enduring strength, rose rapidly upon 
the plain, the hearts of the Moorish chieftains were smitten 
with dismay. It was demonstration to them that the war 
was to be permanent until the Crescent in Spain should 
everywhere give place to the Cross. The inhabitants of 
Granada, beginning to feel the pressure of famine, were in 
despair, in view of the miseries of starvation, pestilence, 
and death which must inevitably ensue. The Moorish 
king, convinced that the place could not be much longer 
maintained, sent a messenger by night, and with the utmost 
secrecy, to negotiate for the surrender. The martial Moors, 
ever hoping for re-enforcements from Africa which Ab- 
dallah knew could not reach them, were unwilling to en- 
tertain a thought of capitulation. The conferences were 
consequently conducted with the greatest caution, some- 
times in a retired cottage about three miles from the city, 
and again in a chamber within the walls of Granada. The 
terms were at length concluded. 

The city, its artillery, and fortifications were all to be 
surrendered to the Christians, and the whole region was to 
become subject to the Spanish sway. The Moorish inhab- 
itants of the territory of Granada, though under the con- 
trol of a Spanish governor, were to retain their mosques 
and the free exercises of their religion ; they were also to 
be unmolested in their ancient usages, and were to be per- 
mitted to retain their language and style of dress. Their 



THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 185 

property was to be respected, and they were to enjoy the 
liberty of migrating whenever and wherever they pleased. 
A small mountainous territory in the midst of the Alpu- 
xarras Mountains was assigned to the unfortunate King 
Abdallah, where he was to reign as governor, doing hom- 
age to the Christian crown. 

When the Moors were informed of the terms of the 
capitulation, which ended forever the Moorish dominion in 
Spain, the exasperation was so great as to give rise to an 
insurrection in the city which menaced the life of Abdal- 
lah. The surrender was consequently hurried, and took 
place on the 2d of January, 1492. This last great act in 
one of the sublimest of historical dramas — the invasion of 
Spain by the Moors — was performed with the most impos- 
ing martial and religious rites. The Alhambra was first 
taken possession of by veteran Christian troops, including 
the body-guard of the king. 

Ferdinand, surrounded by a very brilliant cortege glit- 
tering in polished armor, took his station near an Arabian 
mosque, now called the Hermitage of St. Sebastian. At a 
short distance in the rear the queen, Isabella, took her po- 
sition, accompanied by a no less splendid retinue, her high- 
born warriors proudly displaying the armorial bearings of 
their families. The immense column of the Christian army 
commenced its march up the Hill of Martyrs into the city. 
Abdallah, accompanied by fifty cavaliers, passed them, de- 
scending the hill to make the surrender of himself to Fer- 
dinand. The heart-broken Moor threw himself from his 
horse, and would have seized the hand of Ferdinand, kiss- 
ing it in token of homage, but the Christian king magnani- 
mously spared him the humiliation, and threw his arms 
around the deposed monarch in a respectful and affection- 



186 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ate embrace. Abdallah. tlien presented the keys of the 
Alhambra to the conqueror, saying, 

" They are thine, O king, since Allah so decrees it. 
Use thy success with clemency and moderation." 

He then, not waiting for the words of consolation which 
the king was about to utter, rode on to offer the same acts 
of submission and homage to Queen Isabella. In the mean 
time the Castilian army, winding slowly up the hill and 
around the walls, entered the city by the gate of Los Moli- 
nos. The large silver cross which Ferdinand had ever 
borne with him in his crusade against the Moors was now 
elevated upon the Alhambra, while the banners of the con- 
queror were proudly unfurled from its towers. 

It was the signal for the whole army to fall upon its 
knees in recognition of that Providence which had granted 
them so signal a victory. The solemn strains of the Te 
Deum, performed by the choir of the royal chapel, then 
swelled majestically over the prostrate host. The Spanish 
grandees now gathered around Isabella, and kneeling, kiss- 
ed her hand in recognition of her sovereignty as queen of 
Granada. 

The Moorish- king did not tarry to witness these pain- 
ful scenes. With his small retinue he rapidly continued 
his route towards the mountains of Alpuxarras in the east. 
Here, upon one of the rocky eminences, he stopped his 
horse, and looked sadly back upon the beautiful realms 
over which his ancestors had reigned for a period of seven 
hundred and forty-one years. The emotions which the 
scene was calculated to inspire so overcame him that, after 
an ineffectual struggle to repress his feelings, he burst into 
tears. His mother, in cruel reproach, exclaimed, "You do 
well to weep as a woman for what you could not defend 




THE LAST SIGH OF THE MOOR. 



THE CONQUEST OF GKANADA. 189 

like a man." " Alas !" rejoined the king, " when were 
woes ever equal to mine !" 

The bluff from which the king cast his last, lingering, 
tearful look upon the fair realms of Granada is still point- 
ed out to the tourist. It is called bj the appropriate name 
of El Ultimo Sospiro del Moro — " The Last Sigh of the 
Moor." The heart of Abdallah was broken. For a few 
months he pined away in his narrow and barren domain 
until, unable to endure such a reverse any longer, almost 
in sight of the theatre of his ancient glory and power, he 
the next year sold out his petty sovereignty to Ferdinand 
and Isabella for a small sum of money, and retiring across 
the sea, soon fell in battle in the service of an African prince. 

The fall of Granada, terminating the Moorish dominion 
in Spain, was hailed with rejoicing throughout all Chris- 
tendom. The Pope and his cardinals celebrated the event 
with all the appliances of religious pomp in the Cathedral 
of St. Peter. Corrupt as was the Christianity of those days, 
it probably contained within itself elements of progress not 
to be found in the religion of the Moors. The following 
sentiments are from the pen of one of the most illustrious 
historians of the events of those days : " With all our sym- 
pathy for the conquerors, it is impossible, without a deep 
feeling of regret, to contemplate the decay and final ex- 
tinction of a race who had made such high advances in 
civilization as the Spanish Arabs, to see them driven from 
the stately palaces reared by their own hands, wandering 
as exiles over the lands, which still blossomed with the 
fruits of their industry, and wasting away under persecu- 
tion until their very name as a nation was blotted from 
the map of history."* 

* Prescott. 



190 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



CHAPTER IX. 

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
(From 1435 A.D. to 1492 a.d.) 

Birth of Columbus.— -Early Life. — Struggles and Disappointments.— His Cause 
adopted by Isabella. — Sailing of the Expedition. — The VoyagCir — Mutinous 
Conduct of the Crew, — Land discovered. 

WHILE Ferdinand and Isabella were at Santa F^, tlie 
city which they had reared in front of Granada, a 
very extraordinary man, then about fifty -five years of age, 
arrived at the camp, whose career in connection with the 
history of Spain deserves particular mention. He was a 
native of Grenoa, Christopher Colombo by name. Accord- 
ing to the custom of the times, he Latinized it into Chris- 
topher Columbus, and finally, adopting the Spanish form, 
signed his name Christopher Colon. 

The date of the birth of Columbus is not certainly 
known, but it was near the year 1435. His father was a 
wool-comber, an industrious and worthy man, who labored 
hard for the support of his household. The shipping in 
the harbor of Genoa excited the imagination of the boy, 
and created in him a passion for adventure. At fourteen 
years of age he became a sailor. 

The Atlantic Ocean was then a region unexplored. 
The Mediterranean was almost the only scene of nautical 
enterprise. A few bold navigators had crept along the 
shores of Africa, but, appalled by the imaginary terrors of 
the vast Atlantic, even the most intrepid did not venture 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 191 

far from land. It was a rude period of the world. Piratic 
warfare raged so generally that the merchant and the cor- 
sair were often the same. Every mariner was a warrior. 
Wherever he went he was liable to meet a foe. His guns 
were always loaded, and pikes and cutlasses were at hand. 
Through this rough tutelage Christopher grew to man- 
hood. He was in many conflicts, and through them all 
manifested the same serene spirit and unflinching courage 
which embellished his subsequent life. 

In the course of his wanderings Christopher found him- 
self at length at Lisbon, the capital of Portugal. He was 
then a tall, serious, dignified man, about thirty-five years 
of age. He had married a lady of congenial character, but 
without fortune. By the construction of maps and charts, 
then in great demand, he obtained an ample competence, 
and no little celebrity. His profession led him to study 
all that was then known of geography. Every intelligent 
mariner who returned from a distant cruise was put under 
contribution by Columbus for more accurate information 
respecting the land and the sea. 

A small portion only of our globe had then been visit- 
ed. As Columbus sat at his table, constructing his charts, 
he became profoundly excited in contemplating those vast 
regions of which nothing was known. His pencil rapidly 
sketched the shores of the Mediterranean, and the coast of 
Africa from Cape Blanco to Cape Yerde. He then dotted 
down the Canary, the Madeira, and the Cape Yerde Isl- 
ands. Then pushing out three hundred leagues into the 
Atlantic, he sket(7hed the Azores. Here his- maritime 
knowledge terminated. Pencil in hand, he paused and 
pondered, and grew excited. "What is there beyond ? Is 
the earth a plain? Where, then, does it end? Is it a 



192 



EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 




COLuiviuuis IN HIS STUDIO. 



globe? How large, then, is it? If it take the sun so 
many hours to pass from the eastern to the western end of 
the Mediterranean, how large a space could if traverse iu 
twenty-four hours, from noon to noon. 

His whole soul became engrossed in the exciting study. 
Eumors were continually reaching his ears of islands which 
had been dimly discerned in the western horizon. Excited 
mariners had transformed the clouds of sunset into fairy 
lands with towering mountains and wide-spreading savan- 
nahs. 

There was a general interest at that time in new dis- 
coveries. The boldest adventurers were frequently in the 
studio of Columbus, to obtain charts and to communicate 



CHKISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 19o 

intelligence in reference to the realms which they had vis- 
ited, or which they imagined to exist. Devoting himself 
to these studies, Columbus became convinced that the earth 
was round, and that it was about as large as it has since 
been proved to be. He consequently inferred that, by 
sailing directly west, one could reach the eastern shore of 
Asia. The great island of Japan was then dimly known. 
Columbus judged that Japan was in about the situation of 
Florida, and he expected to find many islands in the ocean 
between. 

Columbus, as we have said, was a devout man. Eelig- 
ious enthusiasm influenced him above all other considera- 
tions. " These realms," said he, " are peopled by immortal 
beings, for whom Christ has died. It is my mission to 
search them out, and to carry to them the Gospel of salva- 
tion. Wealth will also flow in from this discovery. With 
this wealth w^e can raise armies and rescue the holy sepul- 
chre at Jerusalem from the hands of the infidels." 

Columbus was quite unable to undertake the fitting out 
of an expedition himself. It was not to be supposed that 
private individuals could be induced to run the necessary 
risk. His only hope was in governmental favor. A sove- 
reign state would not only, by the discovery, obtain wealth 
and power, but would also be enabled to confer upon him 
those titles and that authority which he deemed essential 
for the accomplishment of his religious and philanthropic 
plans. 

He consequently applied to the Portuguese Govern- 
ment, and succeeded in obtaining an audience with King 
John II. The king listened with interest to his statement. 
But when Columbus demanded, as a reward, that he should 
be appointed viceroy of the realms he might discover, and 

9 



194 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

that lie should receive one-tenth of the profits of the expe- 
dition, the king declined embarking in the enterprise. He 
was, however, so much impressed by the statements of 
Columbus that he assembled a council of the most scientific 
men in Lisbon to consider the matter. The majority of 
the council pronounced the views of Columbus visionary. 

The king then stooped to a measure exceedingly igno- 
ble. Taking advantage of the information which Colum- 
bus had communicated, he fitted out a secret expedition, 
which was sent ostensibly to the Cape Yerde Islands, but 
with orders to the commander to push on in the track 
which Columbus had marked out. The captain obeyed. 
But the sailors became terrified in a fierce Atlantic tem- 
pest which arose, and he was compelled to return. 

This dishonorable act roused the indignation of Colum- 
bus. He resolved no longer to remain in a land whose 
court could be guilty of such perfidy. Disappointed, deep- 
ly wounded, but with purpose still unshaken, he took his 
only child, Diego, his wife being dead, and returned to his 
native city of Genoa. This was the home of his boyhood. 
Columbus was destined here to find the truth of the adage, 
" A prophet is not without honor save in his own country, 
and in his own house." He applied to the Genoese Gov- 
ernment to aid him in his undertaking. But his applica- 
tion was contemptuously rejected, he not being able to ob- 
tain even a respectful hearing. 

Columbus was now in a state of deep poverty. But the 
one idea still filled his mind. After forming and abandon- 
ing several plans, he decided to try his fortune in Spain. 
Embarking at Genoa with his little son, Diego, he landed 
at Palos, a small Spanish sea-port near the mouth of the 
River Tinto. Ferdinand and Isabella were then at Cor- 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 



19i 



dova, about one hundred miles distant, superintending the 
war against the Moors. It was an unpropitious moment 
to interest them in an expensive, hazardous, and novel en- 
terprise. 

Columbus, pale, thin, pensive, with coarse and thread- 
bare garments, and with no luggage to encumber him, 
took Diego by the hand, and set out to traverse the weary 
leagues to Cordova. Having walked about a rrtile and a 




COLUMBUS AT THE JJOOli OF THi: CONVENT. 



half, they came to the gate of a convent. Diego was hun- 
gry and thirsty. The father knocked afthe gate and ask- 
ed for a cup of water and a slice of bread for his child. 
The prior of the convent chanced at that moment to 



196 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

pass. Struck with the dignified air and intellectual fea- 
tures of the stranger, he entered into conversation with 
him. The prior, an intelligent man, was much impressed 
with the earnest character of Columbus, and with the 
grandeur of his views. He detained him as a guest, and 
sent for a scientific physician in the neighborhood to meet 
him. 

In th6 quiet cloisters of La Eabida these three men 
pondered the enterprise of the discovery of a new world. 
The prior, a man of influence in the Court as well as in 
the Churchy detained Columbus and his son for some time 
with generous hospitality. He took charge of the educa- 
tion of the child, and gave the father a letter of introduc- 
tion to the confessor of the queen. Cheered by this good- 
fortune, Columbus again set out for Cordova. The Court 
presented the aspect of a military camp. All the chivalry 
of Spain were there congregated in battle array. Plumes 
and banners gleamed in the sunlight. Martial strains from 
the military bands filled the air. Squadrons of horse and 
vast masses of artillery crowded the streets of the city, and 
were encamped around the walls. 

Undismayed by the aspect of affairs, Columbus present- 
ed his letter to the confessor, Fernando Talavera. But 
Talavera was a cold, calculating man, unsusceptible of gen- 
erous impulses. After listening with silent civility to the 
statement of Columbus, he dismissed him, saying that he 
should deem it an intrusion to present so chimerical a 
project to the sovereigns when oppressed with the weighty 
cares of war. The courtiers, contrasting the magnificent 
plans of Columbus with his threadbare aspect and his pov- 
erty, made themselves merry at his expense. Columbus 
found no encouragement at Cordova. Soon both of the 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 197 

sovereigns advanced with tlieir armies into tlie province 
of Granada, where the Moors had their last foothold, and 
through the summer the war was prosecuted with uninter- 
lupted vigor. 

In the fall they returned to Cordova, exulting over their 
victory. After a few days of public rejoicing they repair- 
ed to Salamanca, nearly three hundred miles distant, to 
pass the winter. Columbus remained all this time at Cor- 
dova, unable to approach the court, and gaining a frugal 
living by designing maps and charts. He had, however, 
in the mean time produced a deep impression upon the 
minds of many thinking men in Cordova by the dignity 
of his demeanor, the elevation of his views, and by the re- 
markable conversational eloquence with which he advo- 
cated them. 

A wealthy and intelligent gentleman became so much 
interested in him that he received him to his house as a 
guest, and introduced him to the grand cardinal, who had 
more influence than any other man in the councils of the 
sovereigns. The cardinal listened with profound attention 
to Columbus ; and, deeming his project worthy of state 
consideration, secured for him the long-wished-for audience 
with the king. This interview was to the enthusiastic ad- 
venturer an hour of intense yet solemn exaltation. Deem- 
ing himself the heaven-chosen instrument for the most im- 
portant of earthly enterprises, even the splendors of roy- 
alty could not dazzle him. Eloquently he plead his cause. 

The king, shrewd, sagacious, and ambitious, was excited 
by the idea of discoveries and acquisitions which would 
place Spain in the foreground of all the nations. With 
characteristic caution, he declined forming any judgment 
himselfj but appointed a council of the most learned as- 



198 



ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



tronomers and cosmograpliers of the kingdom to hold an 
interview with Columbus, carefully to examine his plan, 
and to report their opinion. 

The conference was held in a large hall in the old Con- 
vent of St. Stephen's at Salamanca. The assembly, con 
vened by royal missives, was imposing in numbers and in 
dignity. Exalted functionaries of the Church, professors 
in the universities, and statesmen of high rank presented 
an array which must have overawed any plain man of or- 
dinary capacity. Columbus, a simple mariner, with un- 
affected majesty of demeanor and of utterance, and with 
every fibre of his soul vibrating, in the intensity of his zeal 
presented himself before his examiners, sanguine of success. 




COLUMBUS BEFORE THE COMMISSIONERS. 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 199 

But he soon found, to his extreme chagrin, that learned 
men may be full of prejudice and bigotry. His statements 
were assailed with what were deemed antagonistic citations 
from the sacred prophets and the Psalms, and with extracts 
from the religious writings of the Catholic fathers. The 
declaration that the earth was round was declared to be 
absurd. 

"What!" exclaimed several of these sages of the fif- 
teenth century, "can any one be so foolish as to believe 
that the world is round, and that there are people on the 
side opposite to ours, who walk with their heels upward, 
and their heads hanging down, like flies clinging to the 
ceiling ? that there is a part of the world where trees grow 
with their branches hanging downward, and where it rains, 
hails, and snows upward ?" 

The doctrine of Columbus was stigmatized not only 
as absurd, but also as heretical ; since to maintain that 
there were inhabitants in those distant lands would be an 
impeachment of the Bible ; for it was deemed impossible 
that any descendants of Adam could have wandered so far. 

Others, in the pride of philosophy, with great compla- 
cency urged the objection that, admitting the world to be 
round, should a ship ever succeed in reaching the other 
side, it could never return, since no conceivable strength 
of wind could force a ship up the mountainous rotundity 
of the globe. 

Columbus, far in advance of his age, gave to the theo- 
logical objection the same answer which is now given 
when the revelations of science seem to militate against 
the declarations of God's word. To the self-conceited phi- 
losophers he replied with arguments which, though unan- 
swerable, were not to them convincing. 



200 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The reasoning of Columbus produced, however, a pro- 
found impression upon some minds in that assembly. Di- 
ego de Deza, a divine of noble character, who afterwards 
became Archbishop of Seville, warmly espoused his cause. 
The majority were hostile to his views, and they drew up 
a report declaring that it was both false and heretical to as- 
sume that land could be found by sailing west from Eu- 
rope. And this was but about four hundred years ago. 

Columbus was bitterly disappointed, but still not dis- 
couraged. The conference had made his scheme widely 
known. The attention of all the learned in the realm and 
of all the dignitaries about the court was called to the sub- 
ject. And though Columbus was insulted with lampoons 
and jests, still individuals of exalted worth in increasing 
numbers supported and consoled him. 

Columbus had been received as an attache to the court 
during the months in which, with many interruptions, this 
all-important question was under discussion. The vicissi- 
tudes of the war against the Moors caused the court to 
move from place to place. There were but few moments 
of repose when Columbus could get any one to listen to 
his story. During the summer of 1487, when the king and 
queen were with the army encamped before Malaga, con- 
ducting its memorable siege, Columbus could be seen si- 
lently moving about amidst all the pomp and pageantry 
of the embattled host, entering tent after tent, urging his 
claim whenever he could find a listening ear. 

In September, Malaga having surrendered, the court re- 
turned to Cordova, and then, for eighteen months, it was 
constantly on the move, still surrounded by the din of 
arms. Columbus followed the court, vainly seeking again 
to obtain hearing. In the spring of 1489 he succeeded in 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 201 

obtainiiiQf from the kino: an order for another conference 

o o 

of learned men to be assembled at Seville. Bat suddenly 
a new campaign was opened, and the meeting of the coun- 
cil was postponed, as all the energies of the Government 
were engrossed in the siege of Baza. Another year of tu- 
multuous war passed away. Columbus during many of 
these weary months lingered at Cordova, still supported at 
the expense of the court. 

As the king and queen were making preparations, on 
the grandest scale, for the siege of Granada, Columbus, con- 
scious that when the campaign was once fairly opened no 
thought could be turned to him, with renewed zeal pressed 
his suit. At length he received the disheartening reply 
that no more attention could be given to the subject until 
the conclusion of the war. The blow fell heavily upon 
Columbus. But with an indomitable spirit he made no 
surrender to despair. Eesolute, yet saddened, he now look- 
ed around for his next resource. 

There were at this time in Spain many feudal nobles, 
rich and powerful. From their own impregnable castles 
they led strong armies of retainers into the field. One of 
these, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, furnished for the siege 
of Malaga quite an army of cavaliers, a hundred vessels, 
and large sums of money. Columbus turned to him. At 
first the duke listened eagerly to his suggestions, but closed 
the interview by contemptuously declaring the scheme 
nothing but the dream of an Italian visionary. To an- 
other duke Columbus applied, but with similar results. 

He now resolved to try his fortune at the Court of 
France. Before setting out for Paris, he desired to visit the 
Convent of La Eabida, at Palos, to take leave of his son 
Diego, who was still there. Again he approached the gates 

9* 



202 EOMAXCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of the hospitable convent. His purse was empty, and his 
thread-bare clothes were covered with the dust of travel. 
Seven years of incessant toil and disappointment had pass- 
ed since he first asked for a cup of water at that gate. 
Care and sorrow had whitened his locks, and ploughed 
deep furrows in his cheeks. The worthy j)rior received 
him with sympathy and affection. 

Upon learning that Columbus was about to direct his 
footsteps to Paris, he was alarmed at the thought that 
Spain would thus lose the glory of so great a discovery. 
He immediately sent for the physician of whom we have 
before spoken, and for other influential friends, to hold a 
consultation. Among the rest came Martin Alonzo Pin- 
zon, the illustrious head of a family which had obtained 
wealth and renown through maritime adventures. Pin- 
zon could appreciate the views of Columbus. He warmly 
espoused his cause, and freely pledged his purse to aid him 
in his further prosecution of his suit at court. 

The prior, as we have mentioned, had formerly been 
confessor to Isabella. He immediately wrote to the queen 
in the most earnest terms, urging that Spain might not 
lose so grand an opportunity. An old sailor mounted a 
mule and carried the letter to Isabella, who was then about 
one hundred and fifty miles distant, at Santa Fe, conduct- 
ing the siege of Granada. The queen returned an encour- 
aging reply, requesting the prior to come and see her. 
This response excited intense joy in the hearts of the little 
coterie at the convent, and the worthy prior, though it was 
midwinter, saddled his mule and departed from the court- 
yard to urge the claims of Columbus upon Isabella. It 
was a glorious mission, and the good old Catholic ecclesi- 
astic was worthy of it. 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 208 

The queen had a warm heart as well as a strong mind. 
Her affections came to the aid of her intellect, and she lis- 
tened sympathizingly to the plea of her revered confessor. 
She had never heard the cause thus plead before. She 
had never been thus personally and directly appealed to. 
She was the independent sovereign of Castile. Her hus- 
band was King of Aragon. She immediately took Colum- 
bus under her care, requested him to come to Santa F^, 
and, with woman's thoughtful kindness, sent him a sum of 
money that he might purchase a mule and provide himself 
with raiment suitable for his appearance at court 

Great was the joy which these tidings infused to the 
world-weary heart of Columbus. He was speedily mount- 
ed upon his mule, and was trotting along over the hills and 
valleys of Andalusia to the city of Granada. He arrived 
there just in time to see the Moorish banner torn down 
and the flag of Spain unfurled upon the towers of the Al- 
hambra. It was the most exultant hour in Spanish history. 

In the midst of these rejoicings Columbus was intro- 
duced to the cabinet of the queen. With unaffected maj- 
esty he presented himself before her, feeling by no means 
that he was a needy adventurer imploring alms, but that 
he was a heaven-sent ambassador, with a world in his gift, 
which he would bequeath to Spain if Spain were worthy 
of the legacy. 

"I wish," said he, " for a few ships and a few sailors to 
traverse between two and three thousand miles of the ocean, 
thus to point out a new and short route to India, and to re- 
veal new nations majestic in wealth and power. I ask 
only, in return, that I ma}^ be appointed viceroy over the 
realms I discover, and that I shall receive one-tenth of the 
profits which may accrue." 



204 ROMANCE or SPANISH HISTORY. 

The courtiers of the queen were astonislied at what 
they deemed such audacious demands." They urged upon 
Isabella that it was the extreme of arrogance that an ob- 
scure sailor, merely the captain of a successful maritime 
expedition, should demand wealth and honors which would 
place him next in rank to the crown. Isabella, influenced 
by these representations, offered him terms more moderate, 
yet honorable. But Columbus refused to make any abate- 
• ment whatever in his requisitions. He would not go forth 
the discoverer of a world as merely the hireling of any 
prince. 

Sadly yet resolutely he saddled his mule and rode out 
from Santa Fe to return to his friends in Palos, thence 
to go and offer his services to the King of France. But 
" blessings brighten as they take their flight." The queen 
was troubled by the departure of Columbus. The charac- 
ter of the man had produced a profound impression upon 
her mind. She was bewildered in contemplating the mag- 
nitude of the loss to her crown and to her fame should the 
scheme of Columbus prove a reality. Ferdinand came into 
the cabinet. She expressed her anxiety to him. He re- 
plied, 

" The royal finances are absolutely drained by the war. 
We have no money in the treasury for such an enterprise." 

The enthusiastic response burst from the lips of the 
queen, " I will undertake the enterprise for my own crown 
of Castile, and I will pledge my own private jewels to raise 
the necessary funds." 

The thing was settled. Columbus was triumphant. 
And yet how little at that moment was he conscious of 
his victory ! He was then on his mule, four miles from 
Santa Fe, toiling through the sand, returning in the deep- 



CHIUSTOPHER COLUMBUS. 205 

est disappointment to his friends in Palos. A courier over- 
took him just as he was entering a gloomy defile among 
the mountains. For a moment Columbus hesitated wheth- 
er to return. The disappointments of eighteen years had 
led him to distrust the encouragement of courts. Assured, 
however, by the courier, his sanguine temperament again 
rose buoyantly, and, turning his mule, he spurred back to 
Santa Fe. The queen received him with great kindness, 
and immediately assented to all the demands he had made. 

He was appointed admiral and viceroy of all the realms 
he should discover, and was to receive one-tenth of all the 
profits which might accrue. These honors were to be 
transmitted to his heirs. He was also to contribute, 
through his friend Pinzon, one-eighth of the expenses of 
the expedition, for which he was to receive one-eighth of 
the profits. 

The matter being thus settled, Columbus again set out 
for Palos, probably the happiest man in the world. A 
royal decree was issued for the town of Palos to furnish 
two small vessels, suitably victualled and manned for the 
voyage. Columbus succeeded in obtaining three small 
vessels, two furnished by the Government, and one by 
Martin Alonzo Pinzon. Two of these vessels were light 
barks, called caravals, without decks, but with forecastles 
and cabins for the crews. The third vessel, upon which 
Columbus embarked, w^as larger, and completely decked. 
The total number of persons who joined the expedition 
was one hundred and twenty. The enterprise was deemed 
so hazardous that it was with extreme difficult}^ that the 
crew could be obtained. Many of the seamen were im- 
pressed by authority of the Government. 

As the sun was rising over the waves of the Meditcr- 



206 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ranean, on tlie 3d of August, 1492, the little squadron un- 
furled its sails for the world-renowned voyage. Anthems 
were sung, prayers were offered, and the sacrament of the 
Lord's Supper was partaken of by both officers and crew 
before the anchor was raised. No huzzahs resounded from 
the groups upon the shore. No acclamations were heard 
from the ships. Tears, lamentations, and dismal forebod- 
ings oppressed nearly all hearts. 

Columbus steered first for the Canary Islands. A strong 
wind drove them swiftly along, and as the hills of Spain 
sank rapidly beneath the horizon, the terror of the seamen 
increased. There were many indications of mutiny. On 
the third day out one of the vessels was disabled by the 
unshipping of the rudder, which was supposed to have 
been intentionally done by some on board. The injury 
was, however, soon repaired to such a degree that the crip- 
pled vessel could keep up with the others by their short- 
ening sail. At the close of the week they arrived at the 
Canaries, about one thousand miles from the port of Palos. 
Here they were detained three weeks in obtaining a new 
vessel for the one which was disabled, which was found in 
other respects unfit for service, and in making sundry re- 
pairs. 

On the 6th of September Columbus again spread his 
sails. He was now fairly embarked upon his voyage. The 
Canaries were on the frontiers of the known world. All 
beyond was unexplored. A calm kept the vessels rolling 
for three days within sight of the islands. But on the 9th 
the wind sprung up, and in a few hours the mountains of 
Ferro disappeared beneath the horizon. It was the Sab- 
bath, serene, sunny, and beautiful. But on board the ves- 
sels it was a day of lamentation. 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 207 

As we have mentioned, many of the sailors were forced 
to embark. As they took their last view of land they ut- 
tered murmurs loud and deep, which reached the ears of 
the admiral. He did every thing in his power to inspire 
them with his own enthusiasm, but in vain. By threats 
and promises he succeeded, however, in maintaining his 
authority. Perceiving that every league of distance in- 
tervening between them and their homes would but in- 
crease their terror, he resorted to the artifice of keeping 
two records of their daily progress, one correct, for himself, 
the other for the public eye, in which he made their ad- 
vance much less than it in reality was. 

Day after day passed on, while the intrepid navigator 
urged his ships through the billows towards the long-wish- 
ed-for goal. Every object was watched with the keenest 
scrutiny. A weed upon the water, a bird, the color of the 
sea, of the sky, the form of the clouds, the rain, the va- 
riations of the wind, every thing was examined with the 
closest attention. The lead was often thrown, but no bot- 
tom could be found. 

By the first of October they had sailed two thousand 
three hundred miles nearly due west; but according to the 
reckoning shown to the crew they had sailed only seven- 
teen hundred miles. The weather was delightfully mild 
and serene. They had fallen in with the trade -winds, 
which blowing incessantly from the same direction, bore 
them prosperously on their way. But this phenomenon 
added still more to the alarm of the seamen, for they 
thought that it would be impossible for them ever to re- 
turn. 

Atone time the murmurs of the crew became so intense 
that they even contemplated open mutiny, and a plan was 



208 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOKY. 

formed to throw Colurabus overboard. Still the admiral, 
by combined firmness and gentleness, held them in subjec- 
tion. Another anxious week passed away. To inspirit 
the seamen, a reward had been offered of about a hundred 
and twenty-five dollars to the one who should first discover 
land. But there had been so many false alarms that Co- 
lumbus announced that whosoever should give the startling 
cry of land, and it not prove to be true, should thenceforth 
forfeit all claim to the reward. The massive clouds were 
often piled up in the western heavens in forms so strik- 
ingly resembling mountains and valleys as to deceive the 
most practised eye. 

The murmurs of the crew at lenerth became so loud that 
the situation of Columbus was all but desperate. He was 
compelled to assume the attitude of defiance, and to de- 
clare that no consideration should tempt him to abandon 
the enterprise upon which he had entered, and which he 
was sure perseverance would conduct to a successful ter- 
mination. The next morning they met with several indi- 
cations of their vicinity to land. Fresh sea-weed floated 
by them. A branch of a shrub with leaves and berries 
upon it was picked up, and a small piece of wood, curious- 
ly carved, was also found drifting upon the water. 

The sailors, like children easily elated and depressed, 
were now all exultation. Their fears were dispelled, their 
murmurs forgotten, and with perfect subjection thc}^ yield- 
ed themselves to the dominion of their commander. From 
the commencement of the voyage every evening religious 
services had been observed on board the vessel of the ad- 
miral. The vesper hymn floated solemnly over the wide 
waste of waters, and the voice of prayer ascended to God. 

The evening after witnessing these indications of land, 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 209 

Columbus, at the hour of vespers, stood upon tLe poop of 
his vessel, with the mariners assembled around him, and 
in an impressive address *poin ted out to them the goodness 
of their Heavenly Father in bearing them thus far on their 
way, and set strongly before them the evidences that their 
great achievement was now upon the eve of accomplish- 
ment. He told them that he thought it probable that be- 
fore the sun should rise they would make the land. He 
urged them to keep a vigilant lookout, and promised to the 
one who should first make the discovery a velvet doublet 
in addition to the purse of gold. It is remarkable that Co- 
lumbus should have found the land almost exactly where 
he expected to have found it. His only error was in sup- 
posing that Asia extended its unbroken surface to where 
the line of the American continent is found. 

Sixty-seven days had now passed since the highlands 
of Spain bad disappeared from their view. It w^as the 11th 
of October, 1492. The evening was brilliant, the fresh 
breeze was balmy and invigorating. Intense excitement 
pervaded every heart. Not an eye was closed in either 
of the ships that night. As the sun went down, and 
the short twilight disappeared, and the stars came out 
in the ebon sky, Columbus took his station upon the 
poop of his vessel, and with anxious glance ranged the 
horizon. 

About ten o'clock he was startled b}^ the gleam of a 
torch, far in the distance. For a moment it burned with a 
clear flame, then suddenly disappeared. Was it a meteor ? 
Was it an optical illusion, or w^as it a light from the land ? 
Suddenly the light again beamed forth distinct and indis- 
putable. Columbus, intensely agitated, called to some com- 
[)anions and pointed it out to them. They also saw it 



210 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

gleaming like a fitful star for an instant, when it again dis- 
appeared, and was seen no more. 

The darkness of a moonless night again brooded over 
the solitary ships, and nothing was heard but the moan 
of the wind and the sweep of the wave. Eapidly the frail 
barks rose and fell over the billows as the hours of the 
night wore on, while the prow of every vessel was crowd- 
ed with the crew, each one hoping to be the first to catch 
a glimpse of the shore. The Pinta, being the best sailor 
of the three, was in the advance. At two o'clock in the 
morning a seaman from its mast-head discerned the ob- 
scure but indisputable outline of the land. He shouted 
land^ landj land. Every voice echoed the cry. In a few 
moments more all eyes beheld the mountains dark and 
sombre, but clearly defined, and not two miles distant from 
them. They immediately took in sail and laid to, while 
the report of a cannon booming over the waves conveyed 
the transporting tidings to the two ships in the rear. 

It is in vain to attempt to imagine the feelings of Co- 
lumbus during the hours in which he impatiently awaited 
the dawn of the morning. He was then probably about 
fifty-six years of age. The energies of nearly his whole 
life, while struggling against ridicule, contempt, and the 
most terrible disappointments, had been devoted to the at- 
tainment of this one object. And now was he to find 
barrenness, solitude, and desolation — a gloomy wilderness, 
silent and unpeopled, or was he to find powerful nations, 
with a new civilization, and all the embellishments of 
wealth, splendor, and power ? 



THE NEW WORLD. 211 



CHAPTER X. 

THE NEW WOELD. 

(From 1492 A.D. to 1493 A.D.) 

Land discovered, — Scenery of the New World. — Sail from Island to Island, — 
Disappointment. — The return Voyage. — Landing at Portugal. — Arrival at 
Palos. — Keception by Ferdinand and Isabella. 

THE few remaining hours of night passed swiftly away. 
The day dawned, upon the entranced eye of Colum- 
bus, in brilliance paradise could hardly have rivalled. It 
was a morning of the tropics. The air breathing from the 
spicy shore made even existence a luxury. A beautiful 
island was spread out before their ej^es green and luxuri- 
ant, with every variety of tropical vegetation. Weary of 
gazing for so many weeks only on the wide waste of wa- 
ters, the scene opened before them with the enchantment 
of a fairy dream. The voyagers thought that they had 
really arrived at the realms of primal innocence and bless- 
edness. 

The boats were lowered and manned. The banner of 
Spain, emblazoned with the cross, floated from every prow. 
Columbus, richly attired in a scarlet dress, entered his boat, 
and the little squadron was rowed towards the shore. As 
they drew near, the scene grew more beautiful. The 
picturesque dwellings of the natives were scattered about 
among the groves. Trees of gigantic size and dense foli- 
age embellished the hill-sides and the vales. Flowers of 
marvellous beauty bloomed abundantly. Fruits of every 



212 



ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



variety of form and color hung from the trees. Upon the 
beach and on the headlands multitudes of the natives were 
seen, remarkably graceful in figure, entirely naked, and 
gazing with astonishment upon the ships and the boats 
which had so mysteriously appeared in their silent waters. 
It seemed as though they had found another Eden, into 
which the serpent had not entered. 

Columbus leaped upon the shore, and, falling upon his 
knees, with clasped hands and uplifted eyes gave thanks to 
God. The excitement of his spirit was contagious, and 
pervaded the whole band. They gathered around their il- 
lustrious leader in this his hour of triumph. Many wept. 
Many implored his forgiveness for their murmurings and 




THE LANDING. 



THE NEW WORLD. 218 

rebellion. Columbus, unmindful of all the sorrows of the 
past, found the woes of a lifetime obliterated by the rap- 
ture of a moment. With imposing ceremony the banner 
of Spain was planted upon the soil. The name of San 
Salvador was given to the island in devout recognition of 
the protection which Providence had vouchsafed to the en- 
terprise. The oath of allegiance to Columbus as viceroy 
and admiral of all these realms was then administered to 
the whole company of the ships. It was the morning of 
the 12th of October, 1492. 

During these ceremonies the natives gathered timidly 
around, gazing with amazement at the strange beings who 
had thus suddenly landed upon their shores. The com- 
plexion of the Spaniards, their long and flowing beards, 
their helmets and cuirasses of glittering steel, their polished 
armor, and their silken banners struck the natives with ad- 
miration. They had dim conceptions of a celestial world, 
and doubted not that the strangers were from the skies. 
The ships, whose sails had been so gracefully folded before 
them, they deemed birds who had borne the visitors, on 
gigantic wing, from their aerial home. The lofty stature 
of Columbus, his commanding air, and his gorgeous dress 
of scarlet, particularly arrested their attention. 

The amazement and admiration were mutual. It was 
indeed a novel scene upon which the Spaniards gazed. 
The clime, in its genial yet not sultry warmth, was perfect. 
The landscape, novel in all its aspects, the birds of every 
variety of plumage and of note, the trees, the fruits, the 
flowers, differing from aught they had ever seen before, 
and, above all, the groups of men and women who sur- 
rounded them, of clear, golden complexion, whose limbs 
were rounded into symmetry which rivalled the statues of 



214: EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Yenus and Apollo ; all this impressed the Spaniards with 
as much wonder as they themselves excited in the bosoms 
of the islanders. 

Columbus, supposing, as we have mentioned, that he 
was on the confines of India, called the inhabitants Indians. 
The natives were gentle, confiding, and affectionate. They 
lavished upon the strangers all kindness of smiles and hos- 
pitality. The Spaniards passed the whole day wandering 
beneath the charming groves, and eating the luscious fruits 
of San Salvador. The natives led them to their houses 
and to their favorite haunts, and the voyagers passed a day 
of excitement and bliss such as is rarely enjoyed on earth. 
The sun had gone down, the short twilight of the tropics 
had faded away, and the stars were again beaming in the 
sky ere they entered the boats to return to their ships. 

Columbus, who was one of the most kind-hearted and 
benignant of men, had smiled upon the natives as a loving 
father smiles upon his children. He had completely won 
their confidence and their hearts by the trinkets, to them 
more estimable than gold or pearls, which he had freely 
distributed among them. A glass bead, a glittering, tink- 
ling hawk's-bell, a sharp-pointed nail was to them a treas- 
ure of value quite inestimable. No language can express 
the delight with which these beautiful maidens, apparently 
perfectly modest, in the attire of Eve before the fall, would 
hang around the neck or the waist a few hawk's-bells, and 
then dance with delight as they listened to the tinkling 
music. Blissful indeed in those days did the sun rise and 
set upon San Salvador. Since then how sad, in these isl- 
ands, has passed the tragedy of life. The landing of the 
Europeans upon those shores proved to the artless natives 
a calamity of awful magnitude. 



THE KEW WORLD. 217 

As the sun rose next morning, the shore and the sea 
were covered with the natives, some running to and fro 
upon the beach with joyful exclamations, others paddling 
canoes, and others swimming around the ships almost with 
the agility of fishes. But the novelty was already gone, 
and civilized man began to inquire for. the only object of 
his ceaseless worship, gold. The seamen wished for gold, 
that they might return to their native land with the wealth 
and the dignity of princes. Columbus wished for gold to 
enrich the sovereigns of Spain, to magnify the grandeur of 
his achievement, and to aid him in his majestic plans of 
regaining the Holy Sepulchre and of Christianizing the 
world. 

He immediately embarked in the boats to explore the 
island. The day was, as yesterday, full of enjoj^ment, as 
beneath sunny skies and upon a mirrored ocean they glided 
along by headlands and vales, and entered the mouths of 
winding, forest-shaded rivulets. Occasionally they landed 
and walked through villages where thousands greeted them 
with smiles. They sauntered through groves where Na- 
ture seemed to have lavished her most luxurious embel- 
lishments. Finding the island to be of comparatively small 
extent, and as there were many other islands rearing their 
mountain-summits *in the distant horizon, Columbus, in the 
evening, again weighed anchor and set sail. Seven of the 
natives willingly accompanied him. Columbus wished to 
teach them the Spanish language, and have them serve as 
interpreters. Seeing in the south, at the distance of about 
fifteen miles, apparently a large island, he turned his prows 
towards it. They reached the island early the next morn- 



ing- 



Here the same scenes were renewed which had trans- 

10 



218 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

pired at San Salvador. The natives were the same simple, 
gentle people, equally compliant, affectionate, and unsus- 
pecting, and equally destitute of gold. As there was noth- 
ing here to induce delay, Columbus turned to an island 
which he saw in the south-west, having first given to the 
island he was leaving the name it still retains, of Concep- 
tion. He soon passed over the few intervening leagues, 
and before the dusk dropped anchor in waters of such 
crystalline transparency that every stone could be discern- 
ed at a depth of more than forty feet. An Indian whom 
they had picked up in a canoe by the way was sent on 
shore laden with presents, to prepare the natives for their 
landing the next morning. 

In the earliest sunrise they rowed to the shore, where 
they witnessed the same scene of peace, simplicity, and 
beauty with which they now had become familiar. They 
spent a few hours upon the island, charmed with the art- 
lessness of the natives, with the neatness and picturesque 
beauty of their pavilions of reeds and palm-leaves, and es- 
pecially admiring the taste with which the natives selected 
for their dwellings situations of the most romantic beauty. 
Still, however, disappointed in finding no gold, Columbus in 
the evening again spread his sails, and leaving this island, 
to which he gave the name of Ferdinand, but which is now 
called Exuma, he continued his cruise towards the south-east. 

They soon reached another still larger island, to which 
Columbus gave the name of Isabella, but which is now 
known as Yuma. This was by far the most important isl- 
and they had yet seen. Columbus was quite entranced 
with the scenes of loveliness ever opening before him. In- 
deed it was a spectacle to exhilarate even the most phleg- 
matic temperament. 



THE NEW WORLD. 219 

" I know not," writes the enthusiastic admiral in his 
journal to the king, " where first to go, nor are my eyes 
ever weary with gazing on the beautiful verdure. ILere 
are large lakes, and the groves about them are marvellous, 
and every thing is green, and the herbage is as in April in 
Andalusia. The singing of the birds is such that it seems 
as if one could never be willing to depart hence. There 
are flocks of parrots which obscure the sun, and other 
birds, large and small, of so many kinds, and so different 
from ours, that it is wonderful. There are also trees of a 
thousand species, each having its particular fruit. As I 
approached this cape, there came off" a fragrance so good 
and soft that it was the sweetest thing in the world." 

Still Columbus and his men were disappointed. They 
had found apparently a fairy realm of contentment, abun- 
dance, and peace, but no gold. Gradually the admiral be- 
gan to create a language of intercourse between himself 
and the natives. They informed him of an island many 
leagues to the south-west of great magnitude, abounding in 
gold and pearls and spices, where merchant-ships came and 
went, and where powerful nations dwelt. All this Colum- 
bus, who was excited by hope, understood their signs to sig- 
nify. This island the natives called Cuba, a beautiful name 
which this gem of the ocean fortunately still retains. 

Columbus concluded that this island must be Japan, 
which he had expected to find near that spot, and that a 
ten days' sail towards the west would bring him to the 
coast of India. Thus elated with hope, every sail was 
spread as the little squadron was pressed along, by a favor- 
able breeze, towards the island of Cuba. Passing several 
small and beautiful islands on the way, at which he did 
not deign to touch, after a three da3^s' sail the mountains 



220 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of the Queen of the Antilles hove in sight. It was on the 
morning of the 28th of October. The magnitude of the 
island, the grandeur of its mountains, the wide sweep of its 
valleys, the stately forests, and the rivers, calm and deep, 
with banks of enchanting beauty, impressed every behold- 
er with the highest feelings of wonder and admiration. 

Anchoring at the mouth of a river, Columbus, with a 
small party, took the boats to explore the stream. The 
inhabitants, having observed the approach of the strange 
phenomenon of the ships, fled affrighted from the shore. 
As the voyagers ascended the river, vistas of beauty were 
ever opening before them. The banks were covered with 
trees and shrubs, whose branches were filled with birds of 
great brilliance of plumage — parrots, humming-birds, fla- 
mingoes of gorgeous colors, and innumerable others of the 
feathered tribe of almost every variety of size, form, and 
brilliance. Columbus was quite entranced. 

" Cuba," he wrote, " it is the most beautiful island that 
eyes ever beheld. One would live there forever." 

He approached several villages, but the terrified inhab- 
itants had fled to the mountains. The houses were more 
substantial than any others he had yet seen. There were 
many indications that the inhabitants had attained a high- 
er civilization than those upon the smaller islands. Re- 
turning to his ship, he again spread his sails and followed 
along the coast, hoping to approach some large Oriental 
city. But cape stretched beyond cape, and headlands 
melted away beyond headlands, and nothing met his eye 
but the luxuriance and the beauty of a fairy creation, 
thronged with an artless and a happy people. . The weath- 
er was mild, and the most delightful serenity pervaded 
these peaceful scenes. 



THE NEW WORLD. 221 

After coasting along the shore for three days, Columbus 
came to the conclusion that this could not be the island of 
Japan, but must be the mainland of India. Approaching 
a populous region, he sent his boats ashore, and, after much 
difficulty, succeeded in obtaining some intercourse with 
the natives. Misinterpreting their signs, he understood 
that at the distance of four days' journey into the interior 
they would find a great city and a powerful king. This 
confirmed Columbus in his conviction that he was upon 
the Asiatic continent. He dispatched two envoys, under 
native guides, to penetrate the interior in search of the 
fabulous metropolis. The envoys bore presents, and a 
very grandiloquent letter to the monarch, who was sup- 
posed to be enthroned in palaces, of splendor. 

While the deputation was absent, Columbus employed 
the time in repairing his ships, and in making an excur- 
sion into the surrounding country. He ascended one of 
the rivers in his boats for many leagues. The weather 
was beautiful. Morning after morning the sun rose in 
cloudless splendor. As he glided along over the stream, 
beneath the luxuriance of the tropics, meeting everywhere 
friendly greetings, feasting upon new and delicious fruits, 
seeing nothing but beauty, hearing nothing but melody, it 
is not strange that he should have felt that he had indeed 
entered a fairy realm. 

In the journal which he carefully kept for the sove- 
reigns of Spain he is continually giving utterance to excla- 
mations of delight. During this short tour up one of the 
beautiful streams of Cuba he met with a bulbous root, 
about as large as an apple, which the natives used as food, 
roasting it in the ashes. The natives called it batatas. It 
has since become an indispensable article of food through- 



222 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

out the whole civilized world. Though Columbus attach- 
ed no importance to the discovery of the potato, it has 
proved of more value to the human family than if he had 
discovered a mountain of solid gold. 

The envoys soon returned. The great Oriental me- 
tropolis which they had sought consisted of fifty wigwams. 
The envoys were received with the greatest hospitality. 
One who had been selected for this important mission was 
a very learned man, familiar with the Hebrew, the Chal- 
daic, and the Arabic. He was selected for the mission in 
consequence of his acquaintance with these languages. He 
tried all his learned tongues in vain upon the Cuban chief- 
tain. As he was returning from his fruitless expedition, 
he saw the natives with dried leaves of a peculiar plant 
in their hands, which they rolled up into small tubes about 
as long as one's finger. Lighting one end, they put the 
other into their mouths, and drawing in the smoke, puffed 
it out again. This little roll of dried leaf they called to- 
bacco. This was the origin of the cigar. 

Columbus decided to follow along the coast towards the 
south-east, hoping to find some spot where he could estab- 
lish commercial relations with the natives. A few Indians, 
males and females, willingly accompanied him. He wish- 
ed to take them to Spain, that they might be instructed in 
Christianity, so that, upon their return, they could be in- 
strumental in the conversion of these heathen nations. 
Coasting along the shore, he soon reached the south-eastern 
extremity of Cuba, which he at first supposed to be one of 
the capes of the mainland. But far away through the 
transparent air he discerned the blue outline of mountains 
' just rising above the level of the sea. A favorable breeze 
drove them rapidly through the water, and, as they drew 



THE NEW WORLD. 223 

near, the altitude of the mountains and the wide sweep of 
the plains indicated an island of extraordinary extent and 
beauty. Columns of smoke ascending through the foliage 
gave evidence that the region was populous. 

It was on the evening of the 6th of December when 
Columbus entered a spacious and beautiful harbor on the 
western extremity of this island. The natives, seeing the 
approach of the ships, fled in terror to the woods. For six 
days Columbus skirted the shore, occasionally penetrating 
the rivers with his boats, without being able to obtain any 
intercourse with the inhabitants. He frequently landed 
with parties of the crew and entered their villages, but ever 
found them empty, the natives having escaped to the forest. 
On the 12th of December he landed in a pleasant harbor, 
which he called La Natividad — The Nativity. Here he took 
formal possession of the island in the name of the sovereigns 
of Spain, and with many imposing ceremonies erected the 
cross. 

As the sailors were rambling about they fell upon a 
party of the islanders, who fled like deer. The sailors pur- 
sued, and seeing a beautiful young girl perfectly naked, and 
graceful as a fawn, who was unable to keep up with the 
more athletic runners, they succeeded in capturing her. 
They brought their fascinating prize triumphantly to the 
ships. Columbus received her with the utmost kindness, 
and loaded her with presents, particularly with the little 
tinkling hawks'-bells, which had for the natives an indescrib- 
able charm. She found sympathizing friends in the native 
women who were on board, and in an hour was so perfectly 
at home and so happy that she was quite indisposed to 
leave the ship to return to the shore. 

This beautiful Indian girl wore a ring of gold, not 



224 



KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 




ERECTING THE CROSS. 



througli the ears, but more conspicuously suspended from 
the nose. The sight of the precious metal greatly excited 
the adventurers, for it proved that there was gold in the 
country. By the aid of this maiden they soon opened com- 
munication with the inhabitants. They were living in the 
same state of blissful simplicity with the inhabitants of 
Cuba. The natives called the island Hayti ; Columbus 
named it Hispaniola; the French and English have since 
called it Saint Domingo. The island is still burdened with 
its triple appellation. 

If we are to credit the narrative of Columbus and his 
companions, the inhabitants were living in truly an envia- 
ble state, free from the wants, the diseases, and the crusting 



THE NEW WORLD. 225 

cares of civilized life. They had no party politics, no re- 
ligious feuds. They needed no clothing, enjoying, like 
Adam and Eve in Eden, a genial climate of perpetual 
summer. They were neat in their persons and in their 
dwellings ; graceful in form, and attractive in complexion 
and features. Their rivers were alive with fishes. Fruit of 
delicious flavor hung from almost every bough. Their food 
was thus always at hand, and life was to them apparently 
but a long and pleasant summer's day. It would appear, 
from the very unanimous and emphatic testimony of the 
voyagers, that there was no other known portion of the 
globe at that time where there was so little wickedness, 
so little sorrow, or where more true happiness was to be 
found. 

Many of the sailors were so delighted with the warm- 
hearted friendliness of the natives, with the climate, the en- 
chanting scenery, the fruits, the bird-songs, the apparent en- 
tire freedom from toil and care, that they could not endure 
the idea of returning again to the anxieties of life in Old 
Spain. They entreated Columbus to allow them to settle 
upon the island. It so happened that just at this time one 
of the vessels was wrecked upon the coast. One of the oth- 
er boats, the Pinta, had parted company with the little 
squadron, the captain having mutinously separated from the 
admiral, in pursuit of adventures in his own name. 

Columbus was now left with but one vessel, which was 
exposed to innumerable perils in navigating unknown seas. 
Should that vessel be wrecked, they could never return to 
Spain, and the knowledge of their discovery would be lost 
to the world. Under these circumstances Columbus decided 
that it was his first duty to retrace his steps to Europe as 
speedily as possible, to announce the success of his enter- 

10-^ 



226 EOMAXCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

prise, and that he might then return with a more efficient 
fleet to prosecute further discoveries. 

The wrecked caraval was broken up, the guns were 
taken to the shore, and a fortress was constructed, as the 
nucleus of a colony. A tribe of natives resided in the im- 
mediate vicinity of the fortress. They manifested the ut- 
most kindness and sympathy, and rendered efficient aid in 
rearing the bastions and buttresses which were to prove in 
the end the destruction of their race. The chieftain of this 
artless people, Guacanagari, wept in unaffected grief in 
contemplating the calamity which had befallen Columbus. 
He ordered all the effects from the wreck to be placed near 
his own dwelling, guarded them with the utmost care, and 
had buildings reared to protect them from the weather. 
Treasures of inconceivable value, in the eyes of the natives, 
were strewed around, hawks'-bells, glittering beads, knives, 
gaudy ribbons, and yet there was not the least attempt 
made to pilfer. Though the natives aided in transporting 
these valuables from the wreck to the shore, not an article 
was found missing. What was the basis of this honesty ? 
The solution of the problem will puzzle both the philoso- 
pher and the Christian. 

" So loving," writes Columbus, "so tractable, so peacea- 
ble are these people, that I declare to your majesties that 
there is not in this world a better nation or a better land. 
They love their neighbors as themselves. Their discourse 
is ever sweet and gentle, and accompanied with a smile. 
And though it is true that they are naked, yet their man- 
ners are decorous and praiseworthy." 

While here, considerable gold was brought in dust and 
small lumps, any amount of which almost, the natives 
would gladly exchange for a hawk's-bell. The eagerness 



THE NEW WORLD. 227 

of the Spaniards for gold induced the natives more eagerly 
to engage in its search ; and they gave very glowing ac- 
counts of mountains of gold in the interior, and of rivers 
whose sands were but the glittering dust of this precious 
metal. The gentle and amiable cacique, Guacanagari, see- 
ing that Columbus was much depressed by the loss of his 
vessel, manifested true refinement of sympathy in his at- 
tempts to cheer .him and to divert his melancholy. He 
invited Columbus to dine with him, and prepared a very 
sumptuous entertainment, according to the custom, offish, 
fruit, and roots. After the collation the polite chieftain 
conducted his guests to a grove whose overarching foli- 
age shaded a smooth and verdant lawn. Here Guacanagari 
had collected a thousand natives to amuse the careworn 
admiral with an exhibition of their games and dances. 

Columbus, to impress the natives with an idea of his 
power, ordered a military display of the Spaniards. As 
they wheeled to and fro in their martial manoeuvres, their 
burnished armor and their polished swords glittering in 
the rays of the sun, the Haytians gazed upon the spectacle 
in speechless admiration. But w^hen one of the cannon 
was discharged, and they saw the flash and heard the peal 
and perceived the path of the invisible bolt through the 
forest, crashing and rending the trees, they fell to the 
ground in dismay. 

In a few days the fortress was completed, the guns 
mounted, and the ammunition stored safely away. Colum- 
bus deemed the discipline of a garrison necessary to keep 
the Spaniards under subjection rather than as any protec- 
tion against the natives. Having given the men very mi- 
nute directions respecting their conduct during his absence, 
on the 4th of January, 1493, he spread his sails for his re- 



228 



ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



turn to Spain. The hour of parting was one of much 
emotion. Those who were to be left behind found their 
hearts failing them. Should the one single shattered 
bark which bore Columbus and his band founder be- 
neath the storms of the ocean, there would be buried with 
it all knowledge of the discovery of the New World, and 
the colony at The Nativity would be left to its fate. 

By a singular chance, when Columbus had advanced on 
his way along the coast but about fifty miles he met the 
Pinta, which had so shamefully abandoned him. He how- 
ever deemed it prudent to overlook the crime, and to ap- 
pear satisfied with, the lame apologies offered by the cap- 
tain. After a short delay to prepare the Pinta for the long 




THE RETURN VOYAGE. 



THE NEW WORLD. 229 

voyage, the two vessels again spread their sails for their 
return. 

The voyage was extremely tempestuous. The vessels 
were soon separated by darkness and the gale. Colum- 
bus, with intense anxiety, buffeted the waves, which often 
threatened to overwhelm him. A calm, bold man, he en- 
tirely forgot his own life in his solicitude that the impor- 
tant discovery which he had made should not be lost to 
Europe. After thirt3-eight days of almost uninterrupted 
and terrific storms he reached the Azores. Here they en- 
countered humiliating indications of the vices of civilized 
life. The King of Portugal, apprehensive that Columbus 
might make some important discovery which would re- 
dound to the ^lory of Spain, had sent orders to all of his 
colonies that Columbus, should he make his appearance, 
should be arrested and held as a prisoner. Consummate 
treachery was employed to ensnare the admiral at the 
Azores, but by. his vigilance he escaped, and again spread 
his sails. 

A week of pleasant weather and of favoring winds 
brouo^ht his storm -shattered vessel within about three hun- 
dred miles of Cape St. Vincent. Suddenly another fearful 
tempest arose, and for ten days they were at the mercy of 
the winds and the waves, in hourly peril of being engulf- 
ed. During the gloomy hours of this voyage, when it was 
often extremely doubtful whether Columbus would ever 
see Spain again, he wrote an account of his discovery upon 
parchment, wrapped it in a waxed cloth impervious to wa- 
ter, and inclosing the whole in a water-tight empty barrel, 
set it adrift. A copy similarly prepared was also kept on 
the poop of the ship, so that, should the vessel sink, the 
barrel might float away, and thus, by some fortunate 



230 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

chance, the knowledge of the great discovery might be 
preserved. 

On the morning of the 4:th of March Columbus found 
himself at the mouth of the Tagus. A tempest still swept 
the ocean, and his vessel was in such a leaky condition 
that he was compelled, at every hazard, to run into this 
Portuguese river. He dropped anchor about ten miles be- 
low Lisbon, and immediately sent a message to the king 
and queen informing them of his arrival, of the success of 
his expedition, and asking permission to go up to Lisbon 
to repair his sinking vessel. 

No tongue can tell, no imagination can conceive the ex- 
citement which these tidings communicated. The king 
and queen had almost contemptuously dismissed Columbus 
as a hare-brained adventurer. And now he had returned 
in perfect triumph, with a new world, teeming with inex- 
haustible wealth and resources, to present to a rival nation. 
The chagrin of the Portuguese court was unutterable. 

Should a balloon alight in the vicinity of New York, 
from an excursion to the planet Jupiter, bringing back sev- 
eral of the inhabitants and many of the treasures of that 
distant world, it could hardly create more excitement in 
the city than was then created in Lisbon by the return of 
Columbus to the mouth of the Tagus. The whole city was 
in commotion. Every thing that could float was brought 
into requisition to sail down the river to the ship. The 
road was thronged with vehicles filled with multitudes im- 
pelled by intensest curiosity. Columbus, who had not for- 
gotten the days of anguish when he was a rejected and 
despised adventurer at the Court of Lisbon, must have en- 
joyed his triumph. But he was not a man for ostentatious 
exultation. 



THE NEW WORLD, 231 

The king, who was at Valparaiso, about thirty miles from 
Lisbon, immediately dispatched a messenger inviting Co- 
lumbus to his court. The admiral was treated with great 
external deference, but encountered many annoyances. 
The Portuguese court endeavored to get from him all the 
information which could be obtained, that an expedition 
might be stealthily fitted out to take possession of the new- 
ly-discovered lands. The assassination of the heroic admi- 
ral was seriously deliberated. 

At length Columbus again spread his tattered sails, and 
on the 15th of March, just seventy-one days from the time 
he left The Nativity at Hayti, he entered the harbor at Palos, 
having been absent not quite seven months and a half. 
The appearance of the storm-battered vessel sailing up the 
harbor was the first tidings the inhabitants had received of 
the adventurers since their departure. One ship only was 
seen returning. Two had disappeared. It was an hour of 
great suspense, for there was hardly a family in Palos who 
had not some friend or relative who had joined the expedi- 
tion. As soon as the tidings reached the shore of the suc- 
cess of the enterprise the joy was indescribable. A scene 
of universal exultation ensued. Like a mighty billow, the 
tidings surged over Spain, accompanied with bonfires, hur- 
rahs, pealing bells, and roaring cannon. We have not space 
to record these scenes of national rejoicing. The king and 
queen were at Barcelona, at the farther extremity of the 
peninsula. 

The sovereigns immediately wrote to Columbus, in reply 
to the dispatch which he had sent to them, requesting him 
to repair to the court. Columbus probably could not regret 
that this involved the necessity of a triumphal route of 
seven hundred miles through the very heart of Spain. It 



232 



ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



was a delightful season of tlie year, and the jubilant wel° 
come which Columbus met, every mile of the way, from 
Seville to Barcelona, the world has probably never seen 
paralleled. 

The Indians whom Columbus had brought back with 
him were conspicuously exhibited, decorated with gold, and 
brilliant plumes from tropical birds. All the most showy 
products of the New World were presented to admiring 
eyes. A very imposing cavalcade surrounded the admi- 
ral, who sat on horseback, attracting universal admiration 
by his majestic form, his pale and pensive features, and 
his gray locks. About the middle of April he reached 
Barcelona. The cavaliers and nobles of Catalonia had as- 




COLiUMBUS BEFOKE FERDINAND AND ISABELLA. 



THE NEW WORLD. 233 

sembled in large numbers, not only to gratify their curiosity, 
but also to pay their tribute of homage to the discoverer. 

In a numerous cavalcade they met Columbus at the gate 
of the city, and escorted him to the presence of the king and 
queen. The royal pair, with their son. Prince John, were 
seated beneath a silken canopy, to receive the admiral with 
the most imposing ceremonies of state. As a remarkable 
act of condescension, both Ferdinand and Isabella rose upon 
the approach of Columbus and offered him their hands to 
kiss. This was indeed an hour of triumph, one of the 
proudest moments of his life, after years of neglect, reproach, 
contempt. 

All being seated, Columbus gave a brief narrative of his 
adventures, dwelling particularly upon the field of mission- 
ary effort now open for extending the knowledge and the 
blessings of Christianity to the unenlightened heathen. It 
is said that this consideration affected the heart of the queen 
more deeply than all others. 



234 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



CHAPTER XL 

THE GLORY AND THE SHAME OF THE SPANISH COURT. 

(From 1492 A.D. to 15 17 a.d.) 

Effects of the Inquisition.— Expulsion of the Jews. — Their Sufferings.— Attempt 
to assassinate Ferdinand. — Second Expedition of Columbus. — Intellectual Cul- 
ture of Isabella.— Royal Alliances.— Marriage of Joanna to Prince John.— 
Death of John.— Death of Isabella, Queen of Portugal. — Death of her Son. — 
Expulsion of the Moors. — Cardinal Ximenes. — His Character and Death. 

WHILE Columbus was engaged in his first world-re- 
nowned voyage of discovery, extraordinar}^ scenes 
were transpiring in Spain. There were at this time three 
very distinct religious parties, the Christians, the Moors, 
and the Jews. Ferdinand and Isabella were rigid Cath- 
olics, zealously devoted to the interests of the Catholic 
Church. The Inquisition, which had somewhat mildly 
existed before, was re-established by them, with almost un- 
limited power over the property and the lives of all sus- 
pected of heresy. 

It is a melancholy truth, as illustrative of the frailty 
and bewilderment of human reason, that there can be no 
question that many of the inquisitors were actuated by 
conscientious motives while perpetrating the most fiend- 
like deeds of cruelty. Heresy, which was deemed destruc- 
tive of the immortal soul, was considered the most heinous 
of all crimes, as being the most ruinous to the interests of 
humanity. Consequently cases occurred in which mild, 
humble, charitable men, officers of the Inquisition, per- 



GLORY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COURT. 285 

formed, with tears in their eyes, acts of cruelty which de- 
mons incarnate could scarcely have surpassed. 

There were several of these inquisitions in operation. 
One shrinks from recording the woes thus inflicted. In 
Seville alone four thousand were committed to the flames- 
in the space of thirty-six years. A much larger number 
were condemned to other very severe punishments. The 
Christians were especially exasperated against the Jews. 
The most false and cruel accusations were circulated 
against them. It was charged upon them that they kid- 
napped Christian children and crucified them, in derision 
of the Saviour ; that their physicians and apothecaries 
poisoned their Christian patients. No rumor could be 
spread to their disadvantage too gross to be accredited by 
the credulity of those days. All ordinary measures for 
their conversion proving unavailing, it was urged by the 
inquisitors that the land should be purified from their 
presence by the banishment of every Jew from Spain. 

The Jews, informed of the terrible doom with which 
they were menaced, sent a deputation to Ferdinand and 
Isabella at Santa Fe just after the fall of Granada, with a 
present of thirty thousand ducats to aid in paying the ex- 
penses of the Moorish war. They hoped that this act of 
patriotism would purchase for them some favor. The re- 
nowned inquisitor -general, Torquemada, rushed into the 
royal presence during the negotiation, and, brandishing a 
crucifix before Ferdinand and Isabella, angrily exclaimed, 

" Judas Iscariot sold his master for thirty pieces of sil- 
ver. Your Highnesses would sell him anew for thirty 
thousand. Here he is. Take him and barter him away." 

Thus saying, he threw the crucifix down upon the ta- 
ble, and, turning upon his heel, left the room. The sove- 



236 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

reigns, instead of chastising the ecclesiastic, were overawed 
by his insolence. It is said that the queen, naturally hu- 
mane, with great reluctance resorted to the severe meas- 
ures which her spiritual advisers urged as essential to the 
* welfare of her subjects and the advancement of religion. 
Torquemada had been the queen's confessor during her 
childhood, and had acquired a great ascendency over her 
mind. | On the 30th of March, 1492, scarcely three weeks 
beforeHlie_engagement was entered into with Columbus to 
j send him in search of a new world that the blessings of the 
religion of Jesus might be conveyed to the heathen resid- 
ing there, the cruel and unchristian edict was issued for 
the expulsion of the Jews from Spain. 

All unbaptized Jews, of whatever sex, age, or condi- 
tion, were ordered to leave the realm by the end of the 
next July. They were prohibited from returning under 
penalty of confiscation of property and death. The se- 
verest punishment was pronounced upon any who should 
harbor, succor, or minister to the wants of a Jew, after the 
expiration of the term assigned for their departure. 

This decree fell like the crush of the avalanche upon 
the doomed race. It is impossible to ascertain how many 
Jews were then in Spain. The data for judging were so 
unreliable, that while some compute the number at but 
one hundred and sixty thousand, others estimate it at not 
less than eight hundred thousand souls. The former is the 
more probable sum. The Jews as a class were wealthy. 
Many of their families, highly cultivated and refined, were 
accustomed to lives of ease and luxurious indulgence. 
Spain was their native land ; the home of their ancestors 
for many centuries. Driven from the houses they had 
built and the lands which they had cultivated, they, with 



GLORY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COURT. 287 

the brand of infamy upon their brows, were to flee into ex- 
ile to other lands, where they would be received only with 
hatred, contempt, and persecution. 

But three months were allowed them to dispose of their 
property. Driven thus to a compulsory sale, and with so 
large an amount thrown suddenly upon the market, they 
could obtain but a small portion of its value. " A house," 
writes one of the annalists of the times, " was often ex- 
changed for a donkey, and a vineyard for a suit of clothes." 
Those who unfortunately chanced to be in debt had their 
property confiscated for the benefit of their creditors. In 
addition to the cruelty of the deed, they were not allowed 
to carry any gold or silver out of the kingdom. 

The three months quickly passed away, and all the 
routes leading out of Spain were thronged by the unhappy 
fugitives. The melancholy groups consisted of men, wom- 
en, and children — helpless infancy and infirm old age. 
The sick and the djang were borne sadly along in litters. 
Even the Christians pitied them, but no one dared to speak 
words of sympathy or lend them any aid. About eighty 
thousand entered Portugal, and many took ship there for 
Africa. John II. allowed them to pass through his realm, 
every individual paying a tax for the privilege. Some 
thousands remained there. 

Several large bands repaired to Cadiz, in the extreme 
south of Spain, where they embarked for the Barbary coast. 
Crossing the sea to Ercilla, they commenced their weary 
march by land, when they were assaulted by the roving 
tribes of the desert, and not only robbed of all the small 
sums they had saved from the wrecks of their fortunes, but 
they, their wives, and their daughters were the victims of 
outrages which one shrinks from recordingj^ Many were 



288 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

reduced to such extremities bj famine that thej were com- 
pelled to eat the withered grass of the desert for food. Not 
a few perished of starvation. In the extremity of their 
misery, large numbers retraced their steps to the Christian 
colony at Ercilla, where they consented to .receive the rite 
of baptism, hoping thus to be permitted to return to their 
native land. 

" Thus," writes a fanatic Castilian annalist, " the calami- 
ties of these poor, blind creatures proved, in the end, an ex- 
cellent remedy, which God made use of to unseal their eyes. 
So that, renouncing their ancient heresies, they became 
faithful followers of the cross." 

Some sailed for Naples. A malignant disease sprang up 
among them, engendered by the crowded state of the vessels 
and the long voyage. Upon their landing, the contagion 
spread with such frightful rapidity that twenty thousand 
of the inhabitants of the city were cut down by this plague 
in the course of the year. Sweeping on resistlessly, the 
whole Italian peninsula was finally devastated by its rav- 
ages. Some of the exiles sought the ancient home of their 
race on the eastern shores of the Mediterranean. A few 
took refuge in France, and even in England. A Genoese 
historian, describing the scenes which were witnessed in 
that celebrated sea-port, writes: 

" No one could behold the sufferings of the Jewish ex- 
iles unmoved. A great many perished of hunger, especial- 
ly those of younger years. Mothers, with scarcely strength 
to support themselves, carried their famished infants in their 
arms, and died with them. Many fell victims to the cold, 
others to intense thirst ; while the unaccustomed distresses 
incident to a sea voj^age aggravated their maladies. I will 
not enlarge upon the cruelty and the avarice which they 



GLORY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COUKT. 239 

frequently experienced from the masters of the ships which 
transported from them Spain. Some were murdered to 
gratify their cupidity, others forced to sell their children for 
the expenses of the passage. 

" They arrived in Genoa in crowds, but were not suffer- 
ed to tarry there long, by reason of the ancient law which 
interdicted the Jewish traveller from a longer residence than 
three days. They were allowed, however, to refit their ves- 
sels, and to recruit themselves for some days from the fa- 
tigues of their voyage. One might have taken them for 
spectres, so emaciated were they, so cadaverous in their 
aspect, and with eyes so sunken. They differed in nothing 
from the dead except in the power of motion, which indeed 
they scarcely retained. Many fainted and expired on the 
mole, which, being completely surrounded by the sea, was 
the only quarter vouchsafed to the wretched emigrants. 
The infection bred by such a swarm of dead and dying 
persons was not at once perceived. But when the winter 
broke up ulcers began to make their appearance, and the 
malady, which lurked for a long time in the city, broke out 
into the plague in the following year." 

The latter part of May, 1492, the king and queen left 
the city of Granada, and, after a short sojourn in Castile, 
visited, in the month of August, Ferdinand's realm of Ar- 
agon. Here at Barcelona, the capital of the province of 
Catalonia, the king narrowly escaped with his life from the 
dagger of an assassin. As Ferdinand, on the 7th of Decem- 
ber, was leaving his palace at noon, an insane man, a peas- 
ant sixty years of age, moved by the delusion that he him- 
self was the rightful proprietor of the crown, sprang upon 
the king and aimed a blow at the back of his neck with a 
poniard. The attendants rushed upon the assassin and ar- 



24:0 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

rested him after giving him three stabs. He would have 
been instantly killed but for the interposition of the king. 
The wound inflicted upon Ferdinand was very severe, and 
for a time it was apprehended that it would prove fatal. 
The queen, upon receiving the tidings, fell into a swoon. 
Upon recovering from the first shock, she watched over her 
husband by night and by day with the tenderest assiduity. 
The whole city was thrown into consternation, and crowds 
daily gathered around the palace where the king lay, with 
eager inquiries for his health. Three weeks elapsed before 
the beloved sovereign was able to show himself again to his 
subjects. So great was the rejoicing his recovery occasion- 
ed that all the churches were crowded with the multitudes 
who thronged them in offerings of thanks to Grod. Many, 
in accordance with the superstition of those dark, days, in 
expression of their gratitude to God, performed painful pil- 
grimages to Barcelona from great distances, over the rough 
and mountainous ways, with bare feet, and even upon their 
knees. 

The. king, convinced of the mental derangement of the 
poor old man, would gladly have set him at liberty ; but 
the popular indignation could not thus be appeased. He 
was accordingly executed, though the dreadful doom of 
torture, which was the usual fate of regicides, was not in- 
flicted. 

Ferdinand and Isabella were at Barcelona when Co- 
lumbus, as we have before mentioned, returned, and gave 
them the narrative of his adventures. Seven months had 
elapsed since he sailed. ISTo tidings had been heard from 
him. A winter of great severity had been accompanied 
by the severest gales experienced within the memory of 
the oldest mariners. It was generally supposed that Co- 



GLOKY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COUKT. 2-J:l 

lumbus and his crew had perished. The combined courts 
of Castile and Aragon lavished their honors upon the great 
discoverer. Columbus frequently rode out by the side of 
the king, brilliant entertainments were given in his honor, 
and he was in all respects treated with deference never be- 
fore paid to any but nobles of exalted birth. 

Vigorous preparations were immediately set on foot for 
another expedition on a far more extensive scale. There 
was now no lack of adventurers eager to join the enter- 
prise. Seventeen vessels were fitted out, three of them of 
one hundred tons burden. Fifteen hundred persons crowd- 
ed this fleet, many of them of high rank. The Indians 
who had accompanied Columbus to Barcelona having been 
baptized, and thus converted into Christians, after receiv- 
ing such ins'truction as was deemed necessary, were sent 
back as missionaries to aid in propagating the Christian 
faith. Twelve Spanish ecclesiastics were also commission- 
ed upon this service. Among the rest was the celebrated 
missionary. Las Casas, renowned for his piety, his humani- 
ty, his devotion to the temporal and spiritual welfare of 
the Indians. It is a melancholy illustration of poor hu- 
man nature that this truly good man should have proposed 
to relieve the Indians from cruel, compulsory labor by 
substituting for them negroes 'piircliased in Africa. Thus 
originated, from the mind of this sincere Christian, the 
slave-trade, which has inflicted woes upon humanity which 
the omniscience of Deity alone can gauge. This second 
expedition, buoyant with hope, and greeted with the en- 
thusiastic adieus of the populace, sailed from Cadiz on the 
2oth of September, 1493. 

Ferdinand was not a man of much intellectual culture. 
He had but little acquaintance with books. From the age 

11 



'242 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of ten years lie had lived mostly in the tented field. But 
he was eminently a wise man, being by nature richly en- 
dowed with that strength of mind which acquires the most 
valuable wisdom from experience. Isabella was far supe- 
rior to her husband in literary attainments. Her early 
years she had spent in seclusion under her mother's care, 
and had been carefully instructed in all the learning of 
those days. She understood several modern languages, 
and had the Spanish tongue quite at her command, both 
speaking and writing it with elegance and fluency. After 
her accession to the crown, notwithstanding the immense 
cares devolving upon her, she devoted herself to the ac- 
quisition of the Latin language. One of her contemporaries 
writes: " In less than a year her admirable genius enabled 
her to obtain a good knowledge of the Latin language, so 
that she could understand without much difficulty what- 
ever was written or spoken in it." 

It is to be supposed that such a mother would take the 
deepest interest in the education of her children. The best 
teachers Europe could afford were employed in their in- 
struction. Thus all her children made attainments such as 
were rarely acquired in those days. Yery special atten- 
tion was devoted to the education of her son. Prince John, 
who was the heir of the united crowns of Castile and Ara- 
gon. A class of ten lads, selected from the highest nobil- 
ity, was composed, five being of his own age and five of 
maturer years. They all resided in the palace, and he was 
instructed with them. Thus were obviated, in a degree, 
the disadvantages of a private education. A mimic coun- 
cil was also organized to discuss the great measures of pub- 
lic policy, that from his earliest years he might be familiar 
with European diplomacy and the important measures of 



GLORY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COUKT. 2J:0 

state. The young prince presided over this body. The 
pages in attendance upon him were selected from the sons 
of the highest nobility in the realm. Nothing was omitted 
to prepare him for his exalted station of sovereign of one 
of the most powerful kingdoms on. the globe. Conscious 
that the nobility of Spain could not maintain their ascend- 
ency unless really superior, not merely in wealth, but in 
character and attainments, the queen was untiring in her 
efforts to secure for« the children of the nobles that broad 
and thorou2:h culture which would invest them with the 
power which knowledge always confers. 

One of the most important elements of national great- 
ness was found then, as still in Europe, in matrimonial alli- 
ances. The family of the queen now consisted of one son 
and four daughters, all of whom, as we have mentioned, 
were very highly educated. The encouragement given to 
learning was extended to both sexes. There were not a 
few ladies then whose genius and culture gave them re- 
nown which has extended even to our days. They took 
part in the public exercises of the gymnasium and deliver- 
ed lectures in the universities. The queen's instructor in 
the Latin language was Dona Beatriz de Galindo. A lady 
lectured upon the Latin classics in the University of Sala- 
manca, and another lady occupied the chair of rhetoric 
with much celebrity at Alcala. 

All the children of Isabella seemed to inherit the vir- 
tues of their mother. They were dignified in manners, 
exemplary in private life, and strongly imbued with that 
spirit of devotion which too often, in those days, was sul- 
lied with bigotry and superstition. The marriage of the 
queen's eldest daughter, Isabella, with Alonso, the heir of 
the Portuguese crown, and the untimely death of Alonso, 



244 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

has already been mentioned. The Court of Lisbon was 
then celebrated above any other court in Europe for its 
regal splendor. The heart-stricken bride, after the death 
of her husband, unable to endure the anguish which the 
scenes around her continually revived, returned to her own 
country, seeking consolation in the arms of her sympathiz- 
ing parents. Naturally of a pensive temperament, she re- 
tired from all the gayeties of the court, and devoted herself 
to works of charity and piety. 

Upon the death of King John of Portugal, Emanuel suc- 
ceeded to the throne. He had seen, admired, and loved the 
beautiful Isabella during her brief residence in Lisbon, where 
the weeds of the widow had so soon taken the place of bri- 
dal robes. Emanuel sent an embassy to Spain, soliciting 
the young widow to accept his haad and share with him 
the crown. Though the father and the mother of Isabella 
urged the connection, her saddened heart clung so fondly 
to the memory of her first love that she declined the pro- 
posals. 

A very brilliant double nuptial alliance was secured by 
a treaty of marriage of Prince John, the only son of Ferdi- 
nand and Isabella, the heir of their united crowns, with the 
Princess Margaret, daughter of the Emperor Maximilian of 
Austria ; while at the same time the Archduke Philip, son 
and heir of Maximilian, and in his mother's right king of 
the Low Countries, was betrothed to Joanna, second daugh- 
ter of the Spanish sovereigns. A few months after a treaty 
of marriage was formed between Arthur, Prince of Wales, 
son of Henry YII. of England, and Catharine, the youngest 
daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella. This unhappy prin- 
cess, who occupies so conspicuous a position in English his- 
tory as Catharine of Aragon, has obtained renown both for 



GLORY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COURT. 245 

her virtues and her griefs. Indeed, sad was the doom of all 
these parties. Catharine and Henry were but eleven years 
of age at the time of their betrothal. Consequently their 
marriage was deferred for several years. 

Joanna was to be sent to Flanders, there to be received 
by the youthful bridegroom Philip. Spain was at that 
time at war with France. There could be no communica- 
tion by land. The sea swarmed with French cruisers. A 
fleet was collected strong enough to bid defiance to all as- 
sault. It was the most numerous and powerful armada 
which had ever yet emerged from a Spanish harbor, con- 
sisting of about one hundred and thirty ships, conveying a 
military force of twenty-five thousand soldiers. A gallant 
band of the chivalry of Spain accompanied the expedition. 
A brilliant and numerous suite attended the youthful 
maiden. 

The fleet sailed from the port of Laredo the latter part 
of August, 1496. The queen, a very tender mother, accom- 
panied her child to the place af embarkation, and, with tear- 
ful eyes, bade her adieu. Frightful tempests soon swept 
the western coast of Europe. The armada was shattered 
and dispersed. Several of the vessels foundered, and many 
lives were lost. The storm-torn ships put into the harbors 
of England for repairs. A long time elapsed ere any tid- 
ings were heard from the squadron. The anguish of the 
queen was extreme. She sent for the most experienced 
mariners, to consult them respecting the probabilities of the 
safety of the squadron. Through great perils and suffer- 
ings, Joanna at last reached Flanders, and her marriage was 
celebrated with much pomp in the city of Lisle. 

The same fleet, after being thoroughly repaired, a few 
months later conveyed to Spain Margaret, the destined 



246 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY, 

bride of Prince John, a beautiful and highly educated girl 
of seventeen. She has left many published works, which 
give indisputable evidence of her genius and her culture. 
It was mid-winter when the voyage was undertaken. Such 
gales were encountered that at one time shipwreck and 
death, seemed inevitable. The heroic Margaret quietly sat 
down in the hour when death seemed close at hand and 
wrote, even playfully, her own epitaph. But the ship 
which bore the princess fortunately outrode the storm, and 
she landed at Santander, in Spain, early in March, 1497. 

The young Prince John, accompanied by his father, has- 
tened to meet his bride. A royal escort conducted her to 
Burgos, where Queen Isabella affectionately received her to 
a maternal embrace. The marriage ceremony took place 
on the third of April, with pomp such as had never before 
been equalled on a similar occasion. Margaret had been 
educated in Paris. She loved the gayety for which that 
metropolis has ever been renowned. The courtiers whom 
she had brought with her from Flanders were pleasure-lov- 
ing cavaliers, but little disposed to conform to the compara- 
tive puritanism which reigned in the Court of Isabella. 
The fetes, tourneys, games, dances, tilts of reeds, and military 
pageants, assembling all the chivalry and illustrious rank of 
the peninsula, were such as never before had dazzled the eyes 
either of Moor or Christian. The Flemish and Castilian no- 
bles vied with each other in investing the scene with splen- 
dor. The plate and jewels presented to the princess on the 
day of her marriage are said to have been of such value and 
perfect workmanship that the like was never before seen. 

But man, says the poet, is but the pendulum between a 
smile and a tear. The storm always succeeds the calm. 
Though to-day may be sunny, the morrow will come, when 



GLORY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COURT. 247 

clouds and darkness will shroud the sky. Six months 
passed swiftly away, and on the 3d of October Prince John 
lay gasping upon the bed of death. In the midst of the 
rejoicings with which the youthful couple were greeted on 
their bridal tour to Salamanca, the prince was seized with 
a fever. The violence of the attack baf&ed all the skill of 
the physicians. Ferdinand, who had hastened to Salaman- 
ca, sat weeping by the side of his dying son, who was heir 
to the proudest inheritance which Europe could then af- 
ford. It is an affecting comment upon the equality of 
trials in the palace and in the cottage that the young prince 
was not unwilling to die. He assured his father that he 
was prepared to leave a world where experience had al- 
ready taught him that all was vanity and vexation of spirit. 
He only prayed that those whom he left behind might ex- 
perience the same resignation which he felt. The prince 
died on the 4:th of October, 1497, retaining to the last mo- 
ment the same spirit of Christian or philosophic resignation 
which he had manifested during the whole of his sickness. 

Isabella was not present at the death of her son. But 
almost hourly dispatches were sent to her giving an ac- 
count of his gradual decline. When the tidings came that 
he had breathed his last, the grief-stricken mother meekly 
bowed her head and said, " The Lord gave, and the Lord 
hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord." 

This death clothed Spain in mourning. The grief was 
deep and universal. The funeral ceremonies outvied in 
melancholy splendor the glittering pageantry of the nup- 
tials. The tolling dirge thus rapidly succeeded the chimes 
of the marriage bell. The requiem and the funeral pro- 
cession, and the black plumes of the hearse, took the place 
of martial airs and tournaments and dances. The cities 



248 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

were draped in sable-colored banners, and all offices, pub- 
lic and private, were closed for forty days. There is no 
contradiction to the testimony that the young prince, in all 
the attributes of a noble character, was worthy of the affec- 
tion and regret which followed him to the tomb. 

Soon after the death of her husband, Margaret gave 
birth to a lifeless babe. Thus widowed and bereaved, she 
returned to the home of her childhood in Flanders, which 
a few months before she had left flushed with joy, and 
cheered by as brilliant prospects as were ever before open- 
ed to mortal vision. She subsequently married the Duke 
of Savoy, who died in less than three years from the day 
of their marriage. The remainder of her life she passed 
sadly in widowhood, invested by her father with the gov- 
ernment of the Netherlands, where she died in the fiftieth 
year of her age. 

Just before the death of John, his widowed sistei, Isa- 
bella, reconsidered her rejection of the offer of marriage 
with Emanuel of Portugal, and accepted his hand. It is 
saddening to reflect that this young princess, gentle, loving, 
charitable, in heart ever desiring to do right, was so influ- 
enced by the bigotry of those times that she made it a con- 
dition of her marriage that Emanuel should expel from Por- 
tugal every Jew. The cruel edict was. at once promulgated. 
Thus the second marriage of the young Princess Isabella 
was accompanied by the tears and despair of thousands. 

Isabella, now Queen of Portugal, became, by the death 
of her brother John, heir to the united crowns of Castile 
and Aragon. But the Archduke Philip, who had mar- 
ried the youngest daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, had 
the effrontery to assume the title for himself and Joanna. 
Serious difiiculty began to arise, when, in the midst of the 



GLORY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COURT. 249 

controversy, the Queen of Portugal gave birth to a son, 
and one hour after fell asleep in death. Thus blow after 
blow fell upon the hearts of Ferdinand and Isabella. The 
motherly affections of the queen had already encountered 
shocks so severe that she never recovered from this grief 
Her health and spirits sank, and all her remaining days 
were clouded with gloom. Life ever after remained to her 
a wintry day, cold, dark, and dreary. 

The infant whose birth had caused its mother's death 
received the name of Miguel, and was promptly recognized 
as heir to the throne of Spain. None denied the legitimacy 
of his claims. In a magnificent litter the babe was conve}^- 
ed through the streets, and exhibited to the people as their 
future king. Ferdinand and Isabella were recognized as 
the guardians of the child until he should attain his ma- 
jority, which would be at the age of fourteen. Thus this 
babe became the undisputed heir to the crown of the three 
monarchies of Portugal, Aragon, and Castile. But scarcely 
a year passed away ere this infant, unconsciously destined 
to such opulence, rank, and power, sank into the grave. 

The king and queen, much under the control of a very 
remarkable man, Cardinal Ximenes, a prelate alike distin- 
guished for his piety and his bigotry, undertook, with great 
energy, the work of converting the Moors, who still in 
large numbers inhabited the south of Spain. Arguments, 
bribes, and menaces were all employed. The success was 
wonderful. The Moorish doctors, in consideration of the 
rewards so munificently offered, and the pains and penalties 
so sternly menaced, consented to have a few drops of water 
sprinkled upon their brows in the name of Christian bap- 
tism. Their illiterate disciples imitated their example in 
such numbers that four thousand in one day presented 

11* 



250 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

themselves as converts. The diflS.cultj of baptizing so many 
individually was such that resort was had to a large mop, 
or hyssop, as it was called, by which the drops of the holy 
water were sprinkled over the prostrate multitude. 

Perhaps the followers of Mohammed, who had been ac- 
customed to make converts to the Islam faith through the 
persuasive influence of the sword alone, with less reluctance 
yielded to the potency of a weapon which they had so oft- 
en used, and with so much ef&cacy. It is said that Ferdi- 
nand and Isabella had some doubts whether they could law- 
fully compel the Moors to become Christians, even to secure 
their eternal salvation, after having pledged their royal word 
that the Moors should he protected in the free exercise of their re- 
ligion. A council of the most learned ecclesiastics was con- 
vened to give advice upon this- question. " It was decided," 
writes Ferreras, " to solicit the conversion of the Mohamme- 
dans of the city and realm of Grranada by ordering those 
who did not wish to embrace the Christian religion to sell 
their property and leave the kingdom." 

Ximenes wielded these p)h2/siccd powers of moral suasion 
with furious zeal. All who refused to be baptized were 
ordered to leave the realm. The}^ could take with them 
neither gold nor silver, nor certain prohibited articles of 
merchandise. The penalty of death was the doom of all 
who refused baptism or exile. That Spain might be puri- 
fied from every trace of the Moslem heresy, every Arabic 
manuscript which could be found, of whatever nature, was 
thrown into an enormous pile in one of the great squares 
of the city and committed to the flames. The cultivated 
Moors had large libraries, many of their books being sump- 
tuously bound. But the flames consumed nearly all. Only 
a few volumes upon medical science escaped the torch. 



GLORY AND SHAME OF THE SPANISH COURT. 251 

This barbarian deed, perpetrated by a liigbly intellectual 
Christian prelate, inflicted an irreparable loss upon the liter- 
ature of the world. Its counterpart can only be found in 
the celebrated Alexandrian conflagration eight hundred 
years before, said to have been ordered by the Galiph Omar. 
The rigor of the persecution troubled the king and queen. 
They wished to see its severity mitigated. But Cardinal 
Ximenes replied, 

" A tamer policy might indeed suit temporal matters, 
but not those in which the interests of the soul are at stake. 
The unbeliever, if he can not be drawn, should be driven 
into the way of salvation." 

And yet there can be no doubt that Ximenes, like Saul 
of Tarsus when breathing threatenings and slaughter, verily 
thought that he was doing God service. When in the night 
a band of insurgent Moors, roused to frenzy, surrounded 
his palace clamoring for his blood, he replied heroically to 
those who besought him to make his escape, 

" ISTo ! I will stand to my post, and wait there, if Heav- 
en wills it, the crown of martyrdom." 

It is estimated that about fifty thousand Moors received 
baptism. Those who refused were speedily dispersed 
through distant lands. Thus ere long the name and the race 
of the Moors disappeared from Spain. But many traces of 
their wealth, culture, and power still remain to attract the 
steps and excite the wonder of the modern tourist. Xime- 
nes, instead of receiving the execration he deserved, was re- 
warded with great renown. The Archbishop of Talavera 
exultingly writes, 

" Ximenes has won greater triumphs than ever Ferdinand 
and Isabella achieved. They conquered only the soil, while 
he has gained the souls of Granada." 



252 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The Moors, thus nominally converted, were called Moris- 
coes. Adopting the language as well as the religion of 
the Christians, they gradually blended with the conquering 
race. But there were some who regarded with great in- 
difference the few drops of water which had accidentally 
fallen from the bishop's mop upon their heads in what was 
called the rite of baptism. Others secretly relapsed into 
their old Moslem faith, affording wide scope for inquisitorial 
energies in searching out the latent heresy. The execrable 
spirit of intolerance which reigned almost undisputed at 
that day, may be inferred from the following memorial 
which the Archbishop of Valencia addressed to Philip lY. 

"Your Majesty may, without any scruple of conscience, 
make slaves of all the Moriscoes, and may put them into 
your own galleys or mines, or sell them to strangers. And 
as to their children, they may all be sold at good rates here in 
Spain ; which will be so far from being a punishment that 
it will be a mercy to them, since by that means they all 
will become Christians ; which they never would have been 
had they continued with their parents. By the holy exe- 
cution of which piece of justice, a great sum of money will 
flow into your Majesty's treasury." 

Cardinal Ximenes died in 1517, eighty-one years of age. 
Death for him had no terrors. Even in those solemn hours 
when he was conscious that all his work on earth was 
■finished, and that he was about to appear before his final 
judge, he said, "I have never intentionally wronged any 
man. I have rendered to every one his due, without be- 
ing swayed by fear or affection." The humility he dis- 
played, and his child-like trust in the mercy of God, deep- 
ly affected all who stood around his dying bed. His last 
words were, " In thee. Lord, have I trusted." 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 253 



CHAPTER XII. 

SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 

(From 1493 A.D. to 1506 a.d.) 

Columbus and the Egg.— The Destruction of La Navidad.— Exploring Tours.— 
The third Voyage. — Columbus superseded b}^ Eobadilla. — Columbus In 
Chains.— The Iburth Voyage.— Wreclced upon the Island of Jamaica.— The 
Eclipse of the Moon.— The Rescue.— Return to Spain.— Death and Burial, 

BEFORE Columbus left Barcelona to enter upon bis 
second voyage he experienced many annoyances. 
Distinction ever excites envy. Enemies to Columbus, bit- 
ter and unrelenting, sprang up around him. He was an 
Italian, a foreigner. The Spanish nobles were not well 
pleased with his elevation, and were very restive when, 
under any circumstances, they were compelled to yield to 
his authority. It was during his sojourn at Barcelona that 
the incident occurred which gave rise to the universally 
known anecdote of the egg. The Grand Cardinal of Spain 
had invited Columbus to dine with him. An envious guest 
inquired of Columbus if he thought that there was no man 
in Spain capable of discovering the Indies if he had not 
made the discovery. Columbus, without replying to the 
question, took an egg from the table and asked if there was 
any one who could make it stand on one end. They all 
tried, but in vain. Columbus then, by a slight blow, crush- 
ed the end of the egg^ and left it standing before them, 
thus teaching that it is easy to do a thing after some one 
has shown how 



254 



EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 




COLUMBUS AND THE EGG. 



We must briefly narrate tlae subsequent career of this 
illustrious man. It is but a melancholy recital of toils, 
disappointments, and sorrows. As we have mentioned, 
Columbus sailed from Cadiz, upon his second voyage, on 
the 25th of September, 1493. After a prosperous sail of 
thirty-eight days, in the early dawn of the morning of the 
2d of November the lofty mountains of an unknown but 
majestic island appeared in the distance. It was the morn- 
ing of the Sabbath. The crews of all the vessels were as- 
sembled upon their decks, and prayers and anthems . of 
thanksgiving floated over the peaceful solitudes of the 
ocean. Columbus, as the island was discovered upon the 
Sabbath, gave it the name of Dominica. He was now in 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 255 

the beautiful cluster called The Autilles. During the day 
he passed six of these gems of the ocean, appearing on 
those smooth waters beneath the bright sun of the tropics, 
like fairy islands in a fairy sea. 

As he cruised along, he gave to the more important isl- 
ands he met the names of Marigalanti, Guadaloupe, St. Juan 
Bantistu, since called Porto Kico. On these islands he 
found a fierce and warlike race, who were the terror of the 
more peaceful inhabitants of the other islands. The evi- 
dence seemed indubitable that they were cannibals, devour- 
ing the victims of war. It now became manifest that the 
New World was by no means an Eden of primal innocence, 
but that it was inhabited by the fallen race of Adam, who 
groaned beneath the burden of life. 

On the 29th of November Columbus again cast anchor 
in the harbor of La Navidad. He expected to find a happy 
colony, and that by trading with the natives they would 
have obtained by this time a ton of gold for him to transfer 
immediately to his ships. Instead of this, to his great dis- 
appointment he found but desolation and ruin. The Span- 
iards had quarrelled and fought among themselves. They 
had abandoned the fortress, that they might live among the 
natives, where they soon excited intense disgust and hatred 
by their brutal licentiousness, and their haughty disregard 
of all the feelings of the Indians. A warlike tribe from the 
interior fell upon them, as they were scattered about, and 
every man perished. The natives also, who were friendly 
to Columbus, were overwhelmed by the assault of the fierce 
tribe, and nothing remained of the colony but desolation 
and mouldering bones. 

The sanguine adventurers who had accompanied Colum- 
bus, lured by the account he had given of this golden realm. 



256 



ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 




THE COLONY DESTROYED. 



were bitterly disappointed. Sickness broke out. Mur- 
murs loud and deep rose on every side. Columbus was 
denounced as a deceiver, and hardly an individual could ' 
be found to lend him any cordial co-operation. Many of 
the haughty young nobles of Spain had accompanied him. 
They openly insulted the admiral, refusing obedience to 
his commands. Columbus was not sufficiently strong to 
enforce authority. 

Harassed and perplexed in every conceivable way, he 
organized an expedition to explore the interior for gold, 
and commenced the establishment of another colonial city, 
which he called Isabella. Twelve of the ships were sent 
back to Spain to obtain supplies. Columbus was mortified 
that he could send so little gold. He however wrote a let- 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 257 

ter to Ferdinand and Isabella full of brilliant anticipations, 
with which his sanguine, temperament ever inspired him. 
Crushed by care and anxiety, he was prostrated upon a 
sick bed, which he could not leave for several weeks. 
During his sickness his mind retained all its vigor, and he 
gave his commands as usual. His enemies, taking advan- 
tage of his apparently helpless condition, formed a con- 
spiracy to seize the five remaining ships and return to 
Spain, where they would defend themselves for this muti- 
nous act by a combined assault upon the character of Co- 
lumbus. With great energy and sagacity the admiral 
frustrated their plans. In the endeavor, in some degree, to 
divert the general discontent, he arranged an expedition, 
of which he himself took the command, to explore the 
coast of Cuba. The vessels were soon ready, and some de- 
gree of enthusiasm animated the crews as they weighed 
their anchors and spread their sails. 

After following along the southern coast some sixty or 
seventy miles, meeting with many pleasing incidents of the 
same general character which we have previously related, 
he turned to the south, and sailed but a few leagues when 
the blue mountains of another majestic island seemed to 
emerge from the sea. This was his first sight of Jamaica. 
Fortunately the island has retained its original name. The 
natives, a bold and warlike race, opposed the landing. The 
Spaniards, with cross-bow and bloodhound, put them all 
to flight. This was probably the first time in w^hich this 
animal, of execrable notoriety, was employed in such serv- 
ices. But Columbus could find here no gold. He re- 
turned to Cuba and sailed along its southern coast many 
days, and for so many leagues as to satisfy every one on 
board the ships that Cuba could not be an island, but that 



258 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

it was the mainland. After continuing his tour for nearly 
five months, and having discovered many new islands, Co- 
lumbus returned to his colony at Isabella. Here he again 
found that the arrogance and oppression of those he had 
left behind had so exasperated the natives that a coalition 
was formed, of all the tribes, for the extermination of the 
Spaniards. 

The wildest adventures of Indian warfare now ensued, 
a faithful narrative of which would fill volumes. The 
flames of war swept over doomed Hayti, and the island at 
length being entirely subjugated, the wretched inhabitants 
were enslaved. But the victors were compelled to drink 
deeply of the cup of misery which they had mingled for 
others. The most envenomed complaints were preferred 
against Columbus before the Spanish sovereigns. A com- 
mission was sent out to investigate his conduct. These 
commissioners treated the admiral with such contumely 
and insult that his situation became absolutely unendura- 
ble, and on the 10th of March, 1496, he again set sail for 
Spain to seek the redress of his wrongs. After a long and 
stormy passage of three months, he landed at Cadiz. 

Ferdinand and Isabella received him with kindness. 
But all the plans and wishes of Columbus were thwarted 
by a series of incessant and mortifying annoyances. He 
found his popularity greatly on the wane. Many of the 
nobles, indulging in unworthy jealousy of him as a foreign- 
er, did every thing in their power to embarrass his move- 
ments. More than two years passed away before Colum- 
bus could obtain another squadron. But on the 30th of 
May, 1498, he again sailed, on his third voyage, with six 
vessels. 

Pursuing a more southerly course, the first land he 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 



259 



4>^ t¥ 



X 







^S" 



THE SOUTU AMElilCAN COAST. 



made was a large island on the coast of South America, 
which he named La Trinidad — TJie Trinity — from three 
lofty peaks, united at their bases, which first hove in 
sight. 

He coasted for many leagues along the shore of South 
America, supposing it to be an island. The natives he 
found to be almost white. They were bold, but friendly. 
At length, turning his prows towards the north, he made 
sail for Hayti, where he arrived on the 80th of August. 
Though his mind remained vigorous as ever, his physical 
system was shattered by care, toil, and sujBfering. Beauti- 
ful Hayti, which he had originally found so populous, 
peaceful, and happy, was now war-scathed and desolate. 
The Spaniards had converted a blooming Eden into a 
dreary wilderness. Sickness and famine brooded over the 
island, and the conquered and the conquerors were alike 



260 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

wretched. The colony was m a state of anarchy, and the 
Spaniards were intensely exasperated against each other. 

It was long before Columbus could restore even the 
semblance of order. In the mean time the disappointed 
and angry colonists were more bitter than ever in their 
denunciations of the admiral, and the court was flooded 
with complaints against him. Columbus had left two of 
his sons as pages in the household of the queen, These 
lads could not appear in public without being followed and 
insulted by a crowd of vagabonds assailing them in the 
coarsest language " as the sons of the adventurer who had 
led so many brave Spanish hidalgos to seek their graves in 
the land of vanity and delusion which he had found out." 

It was perhaps the general sentiment of the corrupt 
Christianity of those days that the heathen were the in- 
heritance of the Christian. This sentiment controlled the 
conduct of the Spanish and Portuguese navigators. Co- 
lumbus, a devout and humane man, deeply anxious for the 
spiritual welfare of the poor pagans, was apparently sincere 
in his conviction that to sell the natives as slaves in ex- 
change for European commodities would be the most ef- 
fectual way of securing their conversion, and of thus con- 
ferring upon them the blessings of an eternal home in 
heaven. 

But Isabella, more enlightened, whose comprehensive 
and well-balanced mind had no superior at that time, re- 
coiled from such views. When a number of slaves were 
offered for sale in the markets of Spain, she ordered the 
sale to be suspended until she could obtain the opinion of 
a council of ecclesiastics upon the matter. Additional 
missionaries were sent out, some of whom were truly 
good men. But their efforts were greatly paralyzed by the 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 261 

conduct of the vagabond Spaniards who disgraced the 
Christian name. It was not found difficult to convert the 
simple-minded natives to Koman Catholic Christianity. 
The pageants of the Church, its music, robes, censers, pro- 
cessions, and tinkling bells, delighted them. The attrac- 
tions of the new worship were far superior to their ancient 
pagan rites. It was only necessary to be baptized to be- 
come Christians, with the assurance of salvation. 

Among the records of those days we read that " the In- 
dians were so obedient, from their fear of the admiral, and 
at the same time so desirous to oblige him, that they volun- 
tarily became Christians !" And again, " Among other 
things that the holy fathers carried out was a little organ 
and several bells, which greatly delighted the simple people, 
so that from one to two thousand persons were baptized 
every day." 

In the summer of 1500 two vessels arrived in Spain 
from the West Indies with three hundred natives on board, 
to be sold as slaves, whom the admiral had granted to the 
mutineers. The queen was quite displeased, and exclaimed, 

"By what authority does Columbus venture thus to dis- 
pose of my subjects?" 

She immediately issued a decree that all the native In- 
dians who had been enslaved in her provinces should be 
without delay restored to their own country. 

The complaints against Columbus had now become so 
loud and bitter that another commission was sent out to 
Hayti, with authority to supersede him in command should 
he be found guilty. An officer of the royal household, 
named Bobadilla, was jntrusted with this important com- 
mission. This man proved totally unfit for the delicate 
duty intrusted to him. Immediately upon his arrival he 



262 



EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOEY. 




COLUMBUS IN CHAINS. 



assumed the supreme command, and the venerable admiral, 
to his utter amazement, was summnoned to his presence as a 
criminal. Bobadilla had the brutality to order Columbus 
to be seized, aged and infirm as he was, and to be manacled 
with chains. The heroic admiral, too proud to make una- 
vailing remonstrances, submitted to his fate in dignified 
silence. The iron had entered his soul. 

He was plunged into a prison until a ship could be got 
ready to transport him across the ocean. He was then 
placed on shipboard while still in chains and sent to Spain. 
The commander of the ship, moved with grief and indig- 
nation in view of such indignities heaped upon so noble a 
man, wished during the voyage to strike off his chains. 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 263 

"ISTo," exclaimed Columbus ; " their majesties command- 
ed me by letter to submit to whatever Bobadilla should 
order in their name. By their authority he has put these 
chains upon me. I will wear them till he shall order them 
to be taken oif. And I will preserve them ever after, as 
relics and memorials of the rewards of my services." 

These outrages inflicted upon a man so illustrious roused 
a general voice of indignation throughout Christendom. 
Ferdinand and Isabella were not only shocked, but alarm- 
ed. They feared that the voice of Christendom would at- 
tribute the crime to them. Immediately upon learning 
that Columbus had arrived at Cadiz in irons, they dispatch- 
ed a messenger in the greatest haste, to release him from 
his fetters, t% express to him their sympathy and regret for 
the indignities to which he had been exposed, and to invite 
him to repair immediately to the court, which was then as- 
sembled at Granada. An imposing escort was sent to ac- 
company him on the journe}^, and an ample sum of money 
to defray his expenses. 

Upon his arrival at Granada he was at once favored 
with an audience by the king and queen. Tears filled the 
eyes of Isabella as she greeted him with the warmest ex- 
pressions of sympathy and regret in view of the treatment 
he had received. 

These words of kindness so touched the heart of the 
noble old man that his emotions entirely overcame him. 
Throwing himself upon his knees, he wept and sobbed 
like a heart-broken child. Both the king and queen did 
every thing in their power to soothe him, assuring him that 
his injuries should be redressed, and that he should be re- 
instated in all those dignities which were so justly his due. 

An expedition was immediately fitted out to overawe the 



264 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY 

factions in the colony, and to prepare the way for the return 
of Columbus. A fleet of thirty-two vessels, abundantly 
equipped, conveying twenty-five hundred persons, many of 
them the most illustrious Spanish families, set sail in Septem- 
ber, 1501. Don Nicholas de Ovando, a man in many respects 
well qualified for the position, was intrusted with the com- 
mand. He was commissioned with a decree declaring that 
the poor natives, who were rapidly dwindling away, should 
no longer be enslaved ; he was also directed to secure full 
indemnification to Columbus and his brothers for all their 
losses, and to send Bobadilla home for trial. 

Some months after the sailing of this expedition Colum- 
bus was fitted out with a small squadron for his fourth and 
last voyage. Supposing the lands he had discovered to be 
a portion of the continent of Asia, he hoped to find some 
passage through the Isthmus of Darien to the East Indies. 
His little fleet of four small vessels, the largest of which 
was of but seventy tons' burden, sailed on the 9th of March, 
1502. Columbus was now far advanced in years, infirm, 
and weary of the toil and strife of life. It appears that it 
was with some hesitancy that he undertook the command 
of this expedition. 

" I have established," he wrote, " all that I proposed — 
the existence of land in the west. I have opened the gate, 
and others may enter at their pleasure ; as indeed they do, 
arrogating to themselves the title of discoverers, to which 
they can have little claim, following, as they do, in my 
track." 

The leaky condition of his ships rendered it necessary 
for Columbus to touch at Hayti on his outward passage, 
contrary to his intentions. The fleet which was to convey 
Bobadilla to Spain was just about to weigh anchor. The 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 265 

experienced eye of Columbus foresaw a violent approach- 
ing hurricane. He advised that the departure should be 
delayed. Ilis counsel was disregarded. The fleet sailed. 
The hurricane came. Only one ship survived its fury. 
The rest foundered. Bobadilla and his companions sank to 
a fathomless grave. Columbus, riding safely through many 
tempests, at length reached the continent at what is now 
called Central America, near Yucatan. Sailing by a con- 
spicuous headland, which he named Cape Gracias a Dios, 
he cruised southerly along the coast for many leagues, hop- 
ing to find a passage through the Isthmus. Not succeed- 
ing, he attempted to establish a colony at the mouth of a 
river called Belem. But the natives were aroused by the 
licentiousness and oppression of his men, and the whole 
country was soon in arms against the Spaniards. The 
colonists were attacked in such force that they were driven 
to their ships. 

This voyage was but a series of disappointments. " My 
people," writes Columbus, " are dismayed and down-hearted. 
Almost all my anchors are lost, and my vessels are bored 
by worms as full of holes as a honeycomb." One of his 
ships was left a wreck upon the Isthmus. The other ships 
being in a sinking condition, he was compelled to run ashore 
upon the island of Jamaica. He converted the wrecks into 
a fortress to protect himself from the natives, who seem 
now to have become everywhere hostile. 

Columbus found himself in as deplorable a situation as 
can well be imagined. He was, as it were, imprisoned in 
his two wrecked vessels, which he had drawn side by side 
and fortified. Severe sickness confined him to his bed, and 
he was suffering excruciating pangs from gout. The na- 
tives were manifesting hostility. He was on a distant and 

12 



266 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

unfrequented island one hundred and twenty miles from 
Hayti, with apparently no possibility of sending there intel- 
ligence of his condition. The position of affairs was so 
alarming that a bold mariner undertook the desperate en- 
terprise of crossing the ocean in a canoe to Hayti. Month 
after month lingered away, and there were no signs of re- 
lief Columbus, tortured with bodily pain, remained con- 
fined to his berth. His men, despairing of ever again seeing 
their homes, broke away from all restraints, bade defiance 
to the authority of the admiral, and in armed bands ranged 
the island, visiting upon the poor natives every species of 
lawless violence. 

The natives, exasperated beyond endurance, secretly 
united in a plan for the destruction of the Spaniards. Co- 
lumbus saw indications of the rising storm. But in this 
dark hour the character of this marked man shone illus- 
trious. 

By his knowledge of astronomy he ascertained that a 
total eclipse of the moon was to occur in a few days. He 
summoned the principal caciques, informed them that the 
Deity he worshipped was in the skies ; that this Deity was 
offended with the Indians for their unfriendly feelings, and 
for withholding supplies ; and that in token of the fearful 
punishment which awaited them, they would soon' see the 
moon fade away. Some scoffed, some were frightened, and 
all felt secret solicitude. 

The night came, brilliant in tropical splendor. The 
moon rose effulgent over the waves. All eyes were fixed 
upon it. Soon some dark destruction seemed to be con- 
suming it. The beautiful luminary was rapidly wasting 
away. The terror of the natives became intense; and 
when at last the whole moon had disappeared, and porten- 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 



26^ 












^H 








.^... ) 


"^ 










4 


. ■-;- 






?-/^ 








^" 


1 J 








w*; 


l^^^\ 


, ^'w: 


'//■ 




y..;:^^j| 


Ht^ 


m 


^ 




-r^^-'' Y 




THE ECLIPSE. 



tous gloom shrouded the face of nature, the natives actually 
shrieked in their dismay. They ran to and fro, and im- 
plored Columbus to intercede in their behalf Columbus 
said he would retire and commune with the Deity. When 
the eclipse was about to cease, he informed them that God 
would pardon them upon condition that they would fulfill 
their promises and furnish supplies. The shadow passed 
away, and the moon, with apparently renovated brilliance, 
shone forth in the serene sky. The natives were complete- 
ly vanquished. They regarded Columbus with unspeaka- 
ble awe, and were henceforth ready to do his bidding. 

In this imprisonment, with but little hope of ever being 
rescued, Columbus, with a few men who were still faithful 



268 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

to him, remained in the wrecked and shattered ships. Day 
after day they scanned the horizon till their straining eyes 
ached, but no sail appeared. There was hardly a possibili- 
ty that the frail canoe could have reached its destined port; 
and as the months wearily passed, bringing no relief, despair, 
to which the seamen had long since resigned themselves, 
began to settle gloomily over the mind of Columbus. In 
one of those dismal hours he wrote in his journal, 

"Hitherto I have wept for others; but now have pity 
upon me, Heaven, and weep for me, Earth ! In my tem- 
poral concerns, without a farthing to offer for a mass, cast 
away here in the Indies, surrounded by cruel and hostile 
savages, isolated, infirm, expecting each day will be my last, 
weep for me whoever has charity, truth, and justice!" 

At length, after a year had passed, two vessels were seen 
approaching the island. Despair was succeeded by delirium 
of joy. The mutineers, weary of license and crime, hasten- 
ed from their dispersion, and implored the forgiveness of 
the kind-hearted admiral. He pardoned the wretches ; and 
all who survived the dissipation and the hardships of the 
year were transferred to Hayti. 

Here an appalling spectacle of oppression and of wretch- 
edness met the eye of Columbus. New rulers were in com- 
mand. The offscouring of Spain had flocked as adven- 
turers to the doomed island. The natives, who had received 
Columbus with almost celestial kindness, were converted 
into slaves, and were driven by the lash to the fields and 
the mines. If, in irrepressible yearnings for liberty, they at- 
tempted to escape and fled to the mountains, their brutal 
taskmasters, with guns and bloodhounds, pursued them and 
hunted them down as if they were beasts of prey. Las 
Casas describes these outrages in terms which excite in ev- 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 



269 




THE RESCUE. 



ery humane heart emotions of grief and indignation. Many 
of the natives in despair killed themselves ; mothers de- 
stroyed their own children to save them from the doom of 
slavery. In less than twelve years, under these atrocities, 
several hundred thousand of the natives had perished, and 
before one short half century had passed the whole native 
population had sunk in misery to the grave. 

Columbus was by nature eminently a humane man. 
These awful calamities, which he had been instrumental in 
bringing upon the island, lacerated his soul. His whole 
life had been a sublime tragedy, with but here and there a 
gleam of joy. Again he embarked for Spain. Disasters 
seemed to pursue him every step of his way. Storm after 



270 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Storm beat fiercely upon his crazy bark. When he ar- 
rived, he was so exhausted by pain and mental suffering 
that he could not sit upon a horse. He was removed to 
Seville, where he hoped to find a little repose. Poverty 
now stared him in the face. Isabella was upon her death- 
bed, and soon breathed her last. Ferdinand was heartless, 
and incapable of generous impulses. In a letter to his son, 
Columbus sadly writes : 

" I live by borrowing. Little have I profited by twenty 
years of service with such toils and perils, since at present 
I do not own a roof in Spain. If I desire to eat or sleep, I 
have no resort but an inn, and for the most times have 
not wherewithal to pay my bill." 

Still the fires of heroic enterprise glowed in the veins 
of this strange and indomitable man. While helpless on 
his bed at Seville, and having already passed his three- 
score years and ten, with undying enthusiasm he was still 
planning new and gigantic enterprises, when death came 
with that summons which all must heed. 

It was the 20th of May, 1506. With pious resignation 
he surrendered himself to the king of terrors. He was 
perfectly willing to depart "beyond the cares of this rough 
and weary world." Uttering devoutly the words, " Into 
thy hands, O Lord, I commit my spirit," he breathed his 
last. His remains were deposited in the Convent of St. 
Francisco at Seville. Thirty years afterwards they were 
removed to St. Domingo, on the island of Hayti. Upon 
the cession of the island to the French, in 1795, they were 
transferred by the Spanish authorities to the Cathedral of 
Havana in Cuba. 

In this brief sketch of the career of Columbus, a career 
more full of wonderful adventure than that of almost any 



SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. 271 

Other man, we have of course been compelled to omit many 
occurrences of great interest. But we could not say less 
than we have done, consistently with our plan of giving a 
faithful narrative of the Eomance of Spanish History. 



272 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOKY. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

DOMESTIC SORROWS. 

(From 1500 A.D. to 1516 a.d.) 

Visit of Philip and Joanna to Spain.— Insanity of Joanna.— Scene in the Court- 
yard of the Castle.— Jealousy of Joanna.— Death of Isabella.— Death of Philip. 
—Marriage of Ferdinand with Germaine.— Sad Fate of Joanna.— Ferdinand's 
Tour to Naples.— Royal Revels.— Death of Ferdinand. 

WE must now turn back a few pages in the volume of 
history to inquire into the scenes which were trans- 
piring in Spain. On the 24th of February, 1500, Queen 
Isabella's second daughter, Joanna, who had married the 
Archduke Philip, son of the Emperor Maximilian, and 
sovereign, in the right of his mother, of the Low Countries, 
gave birth to a son, who subsequently became the world- 
renowned Charles Y. Queen Isabella, when his birth was 
announced to her, predicted that the crown of Spain would 
descend to his brow. Philip and Joanna, with the infant- 
prince, visited Spain the latter part of the year 1501. 
Passing through France, they were received and entertain- 
ed at the French court by Louis XII. with the most pro- 
fuse hospitality. A succession of fetes of the most brilliant 
character were given in their honor at Blois. 

Magnificent preparations were made by Ferdinand and 
Isabella to receive the royal pair, the parents of the heir to 
the Spanish throne, with that dazzling pageantry which 
was characteristic of the times, and which was deemed es- 
sential to impress the masses .of the people with the su- 



DOMESTIC SOKROWS. 273 

periority and the grandeurs of royalty. Their progress 
through the principal cities of the north presented a con- 
tinued series of processions, illuminations, and all other 
marks of public rejoicing. Ferdinand and Isabella met 
them at Toledo. The warm, motherly heart of the queen, 
saddened by so many bereavements, was transiently solaced 
in again receiving to her arms her beloved daughter Jo- 
anna, from whom she had so long been separated. 

The joy of the queen, however, was soon dimmed as 
she perceived the frivolous and worthless character of her 
son-in-law Philip. Joanna was not beautiful, and was very 
sensitive. Philip gave her abundant occasion for jealousy. 
She was consequently very wretched. At times she would 
lavish upon her husband endearments which annoyed him, 
and again would give utterance to reproaches with which 
he was exasperated. The court of Ferdinand and Isabella 
was stately and decorous. Eigid propriety governed all 
its observances. They both recognized that power had 
been placed in their hands by Providence, to be used only 
for the welfare of the people over whom they were ap- 
pointed to reign. The good of their subjects was the first 
thought in their minds. For this they were ready to sac- 
rifice ease and pleasure. 

But Philip was merely a man of pleasure, entirely de- 
voted to voluptuous indulgence. lie regarded the people, 
as the shepherd his sheep, as animals to be shorn. He 
soon wearied of the stately ceremonial and the reserve of 
the Court of Spain, and longed for the sensual excitements 
to which he was accustomed in the Netherlands, and in 
which he had revelled at the court of Louis XII. The 
babe Charles having received the oaths of allegiance of the 

Cortes of both Castile and Aragon, as heir to the Spanish 

12* 



274 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

crown, Philip abruptly announced his intention of an im- 
mediate return to the ISTetherlands by the way of France. 
No arguments or entreaties of his parents-in-law could dis- 
suade him from this determination. Both the king and 
the queen were disgusted with lihe character of . the prince 
to whom the destinies of their daughter were inseparably 
united, and who so cruelly requited her love. Philip de- 
parted from Spain, leaving Joanna and the little prince 
behind. 

Louis XII. of France knew well how to pander to the 
appetites of Philip, and to convert him into kn instrument 
for the accomplishment of his own ambitious purposes. 
The French court met Philip at Lyons, and again lavished 
upon him the most flattering attentions. The archduke 
and the king endeavored to cement their friendly alliance 
by the betrothal of the babe Charles, then three years of 
age, to the Princess Claude, an infant in the cradle, daugh- 
ter of Louis XII. The Archduke Philip, exceeding the 
powers which had been granted to him by Ferdinand, ar- 
ranged a treaty for the division of Naples between France 
and Spain — a treaty which gave France so greatly the 'ad- 
vantage that Ferdinand refused to ratify it. 

The French and Spanish forces in the kingdom of Na- 
ples immediately met in sanguinary conflict. The French 
were utterly routed. Philip had not yet left France. 
Louis XII. bitterly reproached him as guilty of perfidy in 
not obtaining the ratification of the treaty. The archduke 
was so chagrined at the failure of the treaty, which placed 
him not only in a dishonorable but also in a ridiculous po- 
sition, that he was thrown into a violent fever which con- 
fined him to his bed for several days. His frivolity was 
for a time effectually checked. He wrote to the Spanish 



DOMESTIC SORROWS. 275 

court, indignantly demanding that the treaty, wliich he as- 
sumed that he had made pursuant to orders, should be rat- 
ified, and that France should receive indemnity for the loss 
incurred through its violation. But Ferdinand paid no at- 
tention to the expostulations of his frivolous son-in-law 
further than to send word to France that the treaty, made 
in contempt of his orders, he never would ratify. 

Worn down with cares and sorrows, the health of Queen 
Isabella was now rapidly failing, when a new grief came, 
and the heaviest which had ever yet fallen upon her heart. 
Philip was so remarkable for his personal beauty that he is 
known in history as Philip the Handsome. Joanna, not- 
withstanding her frequent pangs of well-founded jealousy, 
doted upon him with an excess of fondness. Immediate- 
ly upon his departure she sank into a state of the deepest 
dejection. Her strange conduct soon began to excite 
alarm. Day and night she would sit almost immovable, 
gazing silently upon the ground, taking no interest in the 
scenes which were occurring around her. 

About three months after the departure of Philip, on 
the 10th of March, 1503, Joanna gave birth to another son, 
who was named Ferdinand, after his grandfather. Still no 
change occurred in her conduct. Her mind seemed entire- 
ly engrossed in desires to see Philip. Eight months passed 
sadly away, when, taking advantage of a wish he expressed 
in one of his letters to have her return, she resolved imme- 
diately, and at all hazards, to set out for Flanders. Her 
parents remonstrated with the most affectionate earnest- 
ness. She could not traverse France, for the two king- 
doms were at war. It was mid-winter, and she could not 
safely, at that inclement season, brave the terrors of the 
northern seas. 



276 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Soon the insanity of Joanna was developed beyond all 
doubt. She was residing in a castle at Medina with her 
mother. One evening, Isabella having been called away to 
Segovia, about forty miles distant, Joanna left her apart- 
ment, and in deshabille, without any ostensible purpose or 
any announcement to the attendants, sallied out alone to 
leave the castle. Great was the consternation. ISTone 
dared to use violence, and all entreaties to induce her to re- 
turn were in vain. The Bishop of Burgos, who was in 
charge of the household, finding all other efforts unavail- 
ing, ordered the gates of the castle to be closed. 

Thus baffled in her plan, Joanna was thrown into a 
state of the utmost excitement and indignation. She load- 
ed her attendants with reproaches, sat down in the court- 
yard of the castle, and positively refused to return to her 
apartments. The night was cold. She would allow no 
additional clothing to be placed upon her. No one felt 
authorized to use violence, and there she remained, sleep- 
less, angry, and shivering, until morning. The queen was 
hastily sent for. Shocked by the tidings, and in very fee- 
ble health, she dispatched two of the most influential mem- 
bers of her court, Admiral Henriquez and the Archbishop 
of Toledo, with all possible speed to Medina, while she pre- 
pared to follow as rapidly as her health and strength would 
allow. 

The two nobles found the hapless Joanna still in the 
courtyard. At last she so far yielded to their earnest en- 
treaties as to repair for a short time to a miserable kitchen 
in the castle. Soon again, however, she returned to her 
station on the barrier, where she persisted in remaining. 
Here Isabella found her crazed child, and the heart of the 
loving mother sank, crushed as never before, beneath the 



DOMESTIC SORROWS. 277 

blow. The dcxitli of her children had overwhelmed her 
with anguish, but here was a grief whose glooms were 
deeper than those of the grave. 

In the midst of these domestic sorrows, national troubles 
demanded all the energies of her mind. France, enraged 
by what was termed a violation of treaty obligations, and 
by the signal defeat she had encountered in Naples, pre- 
pared a large army and a powerful fleet for the invasion of 
Spain. Ferdinand placed himself at the head of his armies 
to meet the foe, while Isabella, though with rapidly -failing 
health, was unwearied in her endeavors to send troops and 
supplies to her husband. So large a force was gathered 
that the French, who had entered Spain, upon its approach, 
confident that defeat alone awaited them, hastily broke up 
their camp and retired through the defiles of the mount- 
ains. A truce with France for three years was the result. 
Still the French and Spanish soldiers met in many bloody 
battles upon the plains of Italy, struggling for the posses- 
sion of that unhappy country. 

The devout Isabella, with ever-failing health and in- 
creasing sorrows, bowed with resignation to the will of 
Providence, and in the exercises of piety sought prepara- 
tion for the great change which she was assured must ere 
long come. In the spring of 1804, Joanna, after an absence 
of about a year and a half from her husband, her mind 
having partially regained its composure, embarked for 
Flanders. But the conduct of Philip caused her mental 
alienation soon to burst forth with renewed violence. The 
dissolute archduke fell deeply in love with one of the beau- 
tiful ladies of Joanna's suite, and he took no pains to dis- 
guise his passion. The shattered mind of his wife was so 
much disturbed that in one of her paroxysms she fell upon 



278 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOEY. 

the frail fair one with all the fury of a maniac, scratching 
her face and tearing her beautiful ringlets in handfuls from 
her head. Philip was so enraged that he assailed Joanna 
in the coarsest terms of vituperation, and refused all further 
intercourse with her. 

The tidings of this domestic outbreak, when it reached 
the ears of Ferdinand and Isabella, caused them the most 
poignant grief. They both fell ill of a fever. The cup of 
Isabella's sorrows now seemed full to the brim. Her hus- 
band she feared was dying. Her daughter, the heiress to 
the crown of Castile, was crazed, and in heart as wretched 
as probably any woman who could be found in Spain. 
Ferdinand gradually recovered, but the queen sank be- 
neath the malady. On the 12th of October Isabella exe- 
cuted her last will and testament, a document which will 
ever testify to the purity and the grandeur of her char- 
acter. 

She directed that her body should be buried in the Al- 
hambra at Grranada, with a simple inscription on her tomb- 
stone. " But," she added, " should the king, my lord, pre- 
fer a sepulchre in some other place, then my will is that my 
body be there transported and laid by his side ; that the 
union we have enjoyed in this world, and, through the 
mercy of God, may hope for our souls in heaven, may be 
represented by our bodies in the earth." 

The crown she settled upon Joanna as "queen proprie- 
tor" and the Archduke Philip, her husband. In conse- 
quence of the incapacity of Joanna, Philip was appointed 
regent of Castile "until the majority of her grandson 
Charles. After sundry bequests to friends and to objects 
of benevolence, she concludes with the words, " I beseech 
the king, my lord, that he will accept all my jewels, so that. 



DOMESTIC SOKROWS. 279 

seeing them, he may be reminded of the singular love I al- 
ways bore him while living, and that I am now waiting for 
him in a better world ; by which remembrance he may be 
encouraged to live more justly and holily in this." 

Three days after this a friend wrote from her bedside, 
" You ask me respecting the state of the queen's health. 
We sit sorrowful in the palace all the day long, tremblingly 
awaiting the hour when religion and virtue shall quit the 
earth with her. Let us pray that we may be permitted to 
follow hereafter where^she is soon to go. She so far tran- 
scends all human excellence that there is scarcely any thing 
of mortality about her. She can scarcely be said to die, 
but to pass into a nobler existence, which should rather ex- 
cite our envy than our sorrow. She leaves the world filled 
with her renown, and she goes to enjoy life eternal with her 
God in heaven. I write this between hope and fear, while 
the breath is still fluttering within her." 

Seeing her friends bathed in tears around her bed, she 
said to them, " Do not weep for me, nor waste your time in 
fruitless prayers for my recovery, but pray rather for the 
salvation of my soul." 

On Wednesday, November 26th, 1504, Isabella died, in 
the fifty-fourth year of her age, and thirtieth of her reign. 
Through a terrible tempest of wind and rain the body was 
borne on its long journey to the grave. The rain continued 
to fall in floods, and the gale of one of the gloomiest of win- 
ter days howled around the towers of the Alhambra as the 
remains of Isabella were consigned to their final resting- 
place. 

"Life's labor done, securely laid 
In this her last retreat, 
Unheeded o'er her silent dust, 
The storms of life shall beat. " 



280 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The death of Isabella, Queen of Castile, rendered it nec- 
essary for Ferdinand to resign the crown of Castile, "which 
for thirty years he had worn as her husband. Joanna, in 
conjunction with her husband Philip, was immediately pro- 
claimed as succeeding to the throne. In consequence of the 
queen's mental infirmity, the Cortes requested her father 
Ferdinand to administer the government in her name. 
There was not, however, unanimity of sentiment upon this 
subject. Many wished to invite Philip to assume the gov- 
ernment, as the natural guardian of His wife. Conspiracies 
were formed and intrigues commenced to promote this end. 
At length Philip, who was still in Flanders, was induced to 
claim the throne for himself, and to write to Ferdinand de- 
manding that he should renounce the government of Cas- 
tile and retire to Aragon. A bitter family quarrel en- 
sued. Joanna espoused the cause of her father. A let- 
ter which she wrote expressing these views was betrayed 
to Philip. He seized his unhappy wife and placed her 
under rigorous confinement, which greatly aggravated her 
malady. 

Ferdinand, under these circumstances, anxious to detach 
France from the interests of Philip and to secure the pow- 
erful co-operation of that court in his favor, made proposals 
for the hand of the Princess Germaine, a gay, frivolous 
young lady of eighteen, daughter of one of the sisters of 
Louis XII. The French king, who had already become 
somewhat alienated from Philip, eagerly entered into the 
arrangement, though it involved the rupture of the nuptial 
alliance between the infant children of Louis and Philip. 
By the terms of the treaty the alliance between France and 
Spain was to subsist "as two souls in one and the same 
body." This treaty of marriage was ratified by Ferdinand 



DOMESTIC SORROWS. 281 

eleven months after the death of Isabella, he being then in 
the fifty-fourth year of his age. 

Philip thus thwarted, and prohibited by Louis Xll.from 
passing through France to enter the kingdom of Castile, 
perfidiously entered into an arrangement, which he had no 
intention of respecting, by which the government of Castile 
was to be administered in the joint name of Ferdinand, 
Philip, and Joanna, while Ferdinand should be entitled to 
one-half of the public revenue. Aided by this artifice, 
Philip, with Joanna, early in January, 1805, embarked on 
board a powerful fleet for Spain. A terrible storm arose. 
The fleet was scattered. The ship which conveyed Philip 
and Joanna took fire and came near foundering. A shat- 
tered wreck, it with difficulty reached the harbor of Wey- 
mouth, in England. In splendor the royal pair were escort- 
ed to Windsor, where they were entertained for three 
months with profuse hospitality. At length they re-embark- 
ed, and landed at Corunna. 

In the mean time Ferdinand led his young bride to the 
altar. The marriage ceremony took place at Daenas where 
thirty years before, inspired by youthful love, he had 
pledged his faith to Isabella. Spain regarded these nup- 
tials of ambition with strong disapprobation. 

" It seemed hard," says Martyr, *' that these nuptials 
should take place so soon, and that too in Isabella's own 
kingdom of Castile, where she had lived without peer, and 
where her ashes are still held in as much veneration as she 
enjoyed while living." 

Philip brought with him three thousand well-trained 
German infantry. An additional force of six thousand 
Spaniards was speedily mustered. The chivalry of Castile 
with enthusiasm rallied around his banner. Philip now 



282 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

threw off all disguise, and claiming exclusive possession of 
the crown for Joanna and himself, bade defiance to his fa- 
ther-in-law. Ferdinand was abandoned by all in Castile. 
The walled cities closed their gates against him. " A sad 
spectacle," exclaims Martyr, " to behold a monarch, yester- 
day almost omnipotent, thus wandering a vagabond in his 
own kingdom, and refused even the sight of his own child." 
Thus circumvented, Ferdinand in the end was constrained 
to sign an agreement by which he surrendered the entire 
sovereignty of Castile to Philip and Joanna. 

The unhappy queen was still sunk in the depths of 
melancholy. There was reason in her madness, for her 
heart was broken by the infidelity and the cruelty of her 
husband. He was a dissolute man of pleasure, and had long 
since ceased to treat his wife even with outward respect. 
Poor Joanna had however friends who sympathized with 
her, and who braved the wrath of the king by refusing to 
accede to his request to confine the queen as a lunatic, and 
to confer upon him the whole charge of the government. 
The Cortes took the usual oaths to Joanna as queen, to 
Philip as her husband, and to Prince Charles, as heir and 
lawful successor to the throne upon the death of his mother. 
Philip held his wife in cruel duress, and ruled infamously, 
filling most of the posts of emolument and honor with for- 
eign favorites whom he had brought with him from Flan- 
ders. Low mutterings of discontent were heard, deep and 
wide-spread, indicating a rising storm. 

Ferdinand, with his young wife, set out on a tour to visit 
the kingdom of Naples, whose crown had been conferred 
by Louis XIL as a dowry upon Grermaine. The fleet, 
which sailed from Barcelona on the 4th of September, 
1506, touched at Genoa on the 24th, and was soon after 



DOMESTIC SOEROWS. 283 

driven by contrary winds into tlie harbor of Portofino. 
Here Ferdinand received the startling intelligence of the 
sudden death of Philip. He fell a victim to a malignant 
fever, which speedily terminated his dissolute life on the 
25th of December, 1506, in the twenty-eighth year of his 
age. The queen sat in silence and gloom at his bedside 
during the whole of his sickness. No tear dimmed her 
eye. No words of lamentation escaped her lips. When 
he breathed his last she fixed her eye upon him with a 
vacant stare, lost in the stupor of insensibility. 

And there she remained immovable, in the darkened 
chamber of death, her head resting upon her hand, her 
features expressive of profoundest melancholy, and mute 
as a statue. She was requested to give her signature, 
which was needful for the assembling of the Cortes. Sadly 
she replied, 

" My father will attend to this when he returns. He is 
much more conversant with business than I am. I have 
no other duties now but to pray for the soul of my depart- 
ed husband." 

Ferdinand decided to continue his voyage to Naples. 
He was enthusiastically received in these his new Italian 
dominions. A fleet of twenty vessels came out to escort 
him into the port of Naples. Thunders of artillery from 
ship and shore, the ringing of bells, and the shouts of the 
multitude greeted the royal pair as they landed. The king 
was gorgeously arrayed in robes of crimson velvet. He 
wore a black velvet cap, glittering with gems, and was 
mounted on a white charger splendidly caparisoned. The 
queen rode by his side on a milk-white palfrey decorated 
in robes of rich brocade. The escort was correspondingly 
gorgeous. Nobles of highest rank led by the bridle the 



284 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOKY. 

horses upon which Ferdinand and Germaine rode. A 
richly-embroidered silken canopy was held by the principal 
ofl&cers of the city over the heads of the royal pair to pro- 
tect them from the sun. 

In commanding positions the procession halted, when 
the king and queen were greeted with bursts of music, 
shouts of acclaim, and crowds of knights and high-born 
dames crowded around their majesties to render them 
homage by kissing their hands. After passing through 
the principal streets, the procession entered the great cathe- 
dral, where the most imposing religious rites closed the 
ceremonies of the day. 

In the mean time a provisional government was organ- 
ized at Burgos, in Castile. Joanna, plunged into the deep- 
est melancholy, occasionally exhibiting the wildest freaks 
of insanity, not only refused to sanction any of their pro- 
ceedings, but even to grant an audience to any committee. 
Three months after the death of her husband she determined 
to remove his remains to Granada, and insisted upon having 
the cof6.ns of wood and lead opened that she might view 
the corpse. Opposition only roused her to frenzy. With- 
out a tear, without any exhibition of emotion, she gazed 
upon the revolting spectacle, and placed her hand upon 
the mouldering brow. It is said that she had never been 
known to shed a tear after she detected her husband's infi- 
delity to her. 

The funeral car, of magnificent proportions and adorn- 
ment, was drawn by four horses, and was accompanied by 
a long train of ecclesiastics and nobles. The procession 
left Burgos on the night of the 20th of December, and 
moved only during the hours of darkness. " A widow," 
said poor crazed Joanna, " who has lost the sun of her 



DOMESTIC SORROWS. 285 

own soul, should never expose herself to the light of 
day." 

Every morning before the dawn the body was deposited 
in some church or monastery, where funeral ceremonies 
were performed, as at his burial. An armed guard was 
also stationed to prevent any female from approaching the 
remains. In the disordered state of Joanna's intellect, she 
cherished the same jealousy of her sex which had embitter- 
ed her days while her husband lived. One morning, by or- 
der of the queen, the body was taken into the courtyard of 
a convent which she supposed to be occupied by monks. 
To her horror, she found it to be a nunnery. In the utmost 
haste she ordered the remains to be taken to the open fields. 
It was still dark, and a his^h wind was blowinsr. Here the 
party all encamped, and Joanna insisted that the coffins 
should be opened, that, by the flaring light of the torches, she 
might satisfy herself that the presence of the nuns had not 
disturbed her husband's remains. Continuing the journey, 
they at length reached their destination. The wild aspect 
of the queen, her haggard features, and emaciate frame, ren- 
dered more revolting by the squalid attire which alone she 
could be persuaded to wear, greatly shocked her friends. 
The remains were finally deposited in the Monastery of 
Santa Clara. Joanna selected rooms in the palace from 
which she could behold his sepulchre. And here the poor, 
crazed queen remained, at her melancholy watch, for forty- 
seven years. She never left the walls of the palace until 
her body was borne in burial to moulder by the side of her 
unfaithful husband. Seldom has history recorded a more 
affecting tragedy than the fate of this princess, apparently 
born to the most exalted earthly destiny. 

Leaving Joanna to her melancholy vigils of nearly half 



286 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

a century, we must return to her father Ferdinand, who, 
with his young bride, was making a triumphal nuptial tour 
through the kingdom of Naples. The death of Philip and 
the insanity of Joanna led Castile to avow allegiance to 
Ferdinand. Sailing from Naples on the 6th of June, 1507, 
the royal fleet entered Savona, in France, on the 28th. 
Here Louis XII., with a splendid array of land and sea 
forces, was waiting to greet Ferdinand with a royal wel- 
come. The vessels on both sides were decorated with the 
most gorgeous drapery of carpets, flags, and silken awnings. 
All the seamen of Ferdinand's fleet were dressed in gaudy- 
colored livery of yellow and scarlet. As the royal couple 
landed with their suite, richly-caparisoned steeds awaited 
them. Louis XII., mounted upon a magnificent charger, 
took his niece Germaine, the bride of Ferdinand, behind him 
en croupe. The rest of the cavaliers followed his example. 
Thus the whole party, gentlemen and ladies, two on each 
horse, galloped off in high glee to the royal residence. The 
dead Philip and the crazed Joanna were already forgotten. 

Wine flowed freely. Feasting, songs, dances ensued, and 
for four days the place resounded with the mirth of the 
royal revels. Pe-embarking, the king and queen reached 
Valencia, in Spain, on the 20th of July. Soon after the 
king took the oath of administrator of the realm of Ara- 
gon in the name of his daughter and as guardian of her son 
and heir, Charles Y. 

The Moors of Africa, exasperated by the cruel treatment 
they had received, occasionally retaliated by descents upon 
the southern coasts of Spain. Cardinal Ximenes urged the 
king to fit out an expedition to punish them, and to con- 
quer, in behalf of the cross, all those Moslem cities which 
lined the shores of the Mediterranean, and which had be- 



DOMESTIC SORROWS. 287 

come nests of pirates. The king objected for want of 
funds. The proud cardinal offered to supply the funds 
from his own purse if he might be placed in command of 
the expedition. The energetic prelate had ample means. 
In the course of a few months he had ninety vessels, thor- 
oughly equipped, in the harbor of Carthagena, with four 
thousand horse and ten thousand foot, with provisions for 
four months. The extraordinary man who created this 
force, and who was to take its military command, was over 
seventy years of age, and had spent his life in the seclusion 
of the cloister. The wags of the day made themselves 
merry with the thought that the monks were to fight the 
battles of Spain, while the great captains remained at home 
to count their beads. 

The fleet sailed on the 16th of May, 1509, and crossed 
rapidly to the African shore. The Moors were ready to 
meet the foe. Ximenes, dressed in pontifical robes, and 
accompanied by a staff of monks in their monastic frocks, 
exhibited military ability of a high order. Inspiring his 
troops with intense religious enthusiasm, he led them to 
one of the fiercest assaults recorded in military annals, 
though the cardinal himself, in obedience to the earnest en- 
treaties of his soldiers, remained in a place of safety. The 
Moors were routed. Their strong city of Oran was taken 
by storm. The Spaniards abandoned themselves to butch- 
ery and the most brutal license. The officers lost all con- 
trol over them, and deeds were perpetrated which fiends in 
pandemonium could not rival. The spoil of the captured 
city amounted, it is said, to half a million of gold ducats. 
Three hundred Christian captives were liberated from the 
dungeons of Oran. Crowned with this wonderful success, 
Ximenes returned to Spain, leaving the army under the 



;.'-v--/'-**«N'tf"'5'>-'r-' 



288 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

command of Count Navarro. With his combined fleet and 
land force Navarro advanced, through a series of victories, 
capturing all the Moorish cities and region as far as Trip- 
oli. The inhabitants were all received as vassals of the 
Catholic king, paying to Ferdinand the taxes which they 
had been accustomed to pay to their Moslem princes. 

Nothing of special interest occurred during the remain- 
der of the reign of Ferdinand. There were some bloody 
conflicts in Italy, and the kingdom of Navarre was invaded 
and annexed to the crown of Castile. The king was much 
disappointed in the failure of issue by his young wife. In 
the spring of 1513 the health of Ferdinand began sensibly 
to decline. He became impatient, irritable, and deeply de- 
jected in spirits. He seemed to lose not only all interest 
in amusements, but also in public affairs. Eestless and 
discontented, he moved from place to place, finding content 
nowhere. A slight attack of paralysis, probably, threw 
him one night into a state of insensibility from which his 
attendants found it difficult to rouse him. 

Death is as humiliating and painful in its ravages in the 
palace as in the cottage. Indications of dropsy soon be- 
came decisive. The king found great difficulty in breath- 
ing. He complained of being stifled not only within the 
spacious walls of the palace, but anywhere in crowded cit- 
ies. Consequently he lived as much as possible in the 
fields. As the weather grew colder, he directed his steps 
towards the south. Having reached the little village of 
Madrigalejo, he was unable to go any farther. The king 
seemed to be very unwilling to admit that his life was in 
any danger, and would not consent to any spiritual admin- 
istrations which would imply that death was near. 

At length the medical attendants felt constrained to in- 



DOMESTIC SOEROWS. 289 

form the king that his case was hopeless. He calmly lis- 
tened to the announcement, received the sacrament, and 
called his friends around his bed to advise with them re- 
specting the disposition of the government. Poor, crazed 
Joanna was still living, day after day watching the sepul- 
chre of her husband. She was the legitimate heir of the 
united crowns of Castile and Aragon. Her eldest son and 
heir, Charles, was then sixteen years of age. A regency 
was appointed until he should attain his majority. The 
queen, Germaine, arrived but a few hours before her hus- 
band's death. Ferdinand breathed his last on the 22d of 
January, 1516, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. He 
died in a small room of the obscure village where disease 
had arrested his steps. '' In so wretched a tenement," 
writes Martyr, " did the lord of so many lands close his 
eyes upon the world." 

13 



290 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY, 



CHAPTER XIY. 

CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 

(From 1516 A.D. to 1558 a.d.) 

Reign of Charles Y. — Election as Emperor. — His melancholy Temperament. — 
Death of his Mother. — His Abdication. — The Monastery of St. Just, — Cloiste/ 
Life. — The mock Burial. — Death. — Wretchedness of the Nations. — Early Life 
of Philip. — His Man'iage with Mary of Portugal. — Death of Mary. — Mar- 
riage with Mary of England. — Joylessness of the bridal Couple. — Nuptial 
Fetes. — Philip summoned to the Abdication. 

CHARLES Y. was sixteen years of age when the united 
sceptre of Castile and Aragon, with the kingdom of 
Naples and immense dependencies in the New World, 
passed into his hands. Though nominally he shared the 
throne with his mother, yet, in consequence of her inca- 
pacity, he was the real sovereign. He had previously, 
through his father, inherited that portion of the dukedom 
of Burgundy which comprehended Franche Comte and 
the Netherlands. Three years after, when but nineteen 
years of age, upon the death of Maximilian, he was elected 
Emperor of Grermany. Then, for the first time, appeared 
upon the globe an empire of which it could be said that 
the sun never set within the borders of its dominions. 

Under the long reign of Charles Y. but little transpired 
in Spain worthy of special notice. Charles Y. spent but 
little time in the peninsula. He was born in the Nether- 
lands ; his early attachments were there : he was more fa- 
miliar with the German than with the Spanish language ; 
and throughout all his reign, as in subsequent times, he 



CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 291 

has been renowned rather as Emperor of Germany than as 
King of Spain. Indeed he regarded the crown which he 
inherited from his mother as chiefly valuable for the re- 
sources it afforded him in the prosecution of his ambitious 
plans. Consequently the wonderful career of Charles V. 
does not justly pertain to Spanish history. The closing 
events of his life, however, must be recorded. 

Charles V. undoubtedly inherited from his mother a 
disordered intellect. Joanna terminated her sad life of 
delirium and of gloom on the 4th of April, 1555. About 
six months afterwards, in the month of October, Charles 
resolved to abdicate the throne. He had not unfrequent- 
ly, during his long reign of thirty-nine years, developed 
traits of character indicative of insanity. When but thirty 
years of age he was attacked by the gout, and rendered 
so helpless that he nearly lost the use of his limbs. The 
deepest melancholy oppressed his mind. He secluded him- 
self from all society, spent his whole time in reading books 
of devotion, and for several months refused to pay any at- 
tention to public affairs. 

The death of his mother affected him deeply. He im- 
agined that he continually heard her voice calling upon 
him to follow her. His religious interests absorbed his 
thoughts. His shattered health led him to feel that death 
could not be far distant. Though but fifty -five years of 
age, he was prematurely old, worn down with care, toil, 
and disappointment. In one of his hours of weariness and 
dejection, when travelling in Spain, he came upon the Con- 
vent of St. Justus, in Estramadura. It was beautifully 
situated in a vale secluded from all the bustle of life. For- 
est-covered hills encircled it, and a rivulet murmured by 
its massive walls. Silence and solitude reigned there un- 



292 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

broken. As tlie world-weary monarch gazed upon the en- 
chanting scene he exclaimed, " Behold a lovely retreat for 
another Diocletian !" 

For years he had contemplated resigning the crown and 
seeking these cloistered solitudes in which to prepare for 
his latter end. After the death of his mother, and when 
his son Philip had attained sufficient age to assume the 
cares of empire, Charles decided upon the act of abdication. 
The imposing ceremony took place at Brussels, on the 25th 
of October, 1555, in the great hall of the royal palace. 
Careful arrangements were made to invest the scene with 
dramatic effect. The large apartment was gorgeously fur- 
nished for the occasion, and was crowded with the digni- 
taries of the realm. A platform about five feet high was 
erected at one end of the room, upon which there was 
placed a throne for the emperor, and other seats for the 
great lords. 

After attending mass, Charles, accompanied by his son 
Philip and a numerous retinue, entered the hall. Charles 
was so infirm that he needed the double support of a staff 
and the arm of the Prince of Orange. He was dressed in 
deep mourniug for his mother. In a somewhat boastful 
speech he recapitulated the acts of his administration, his 
wars, his weary journeys, his innumerable cares. In con- 
clusion, he said : 

" While my health enabled me to perform my duty, I 
cheerfully bore the burden. But as my constitution is 
now broken by an incurable distemper, and my infirmities 
admonish me to retire, the happiness of my people influ- 
ences me more than the ambition of reigning. Instead of 
a decrepit old man, tottering on the brink of the grave, I 
transfer jour allegiance to a sovereign in the prime of life, 



CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 29o 

vigilant, sagacious, active, and enterprising. With respect 
to myself, if I have committed any error in the course of a 
long administration, forgive me, and impute it to my weak- 
ness, not to my intention. I shall ever retain a grateful 
sense of your fidelity and attachment, and your welfare 
shall be the great object of my prayers to Almighty God, 
to whom I now consecrate the remainder of my days." 

As the emperor, deadly pale, and exhausted by his ef- 
forts, sank back upon his seat, exclaiming, in broken ac- 
cents, while he gazed upon his people, " God bless you ! 
God bless you !" ^' nothing was to be heard throughout 
the hall," says an eye-witness, " but sobs and ill suppressed 
moans." Charles Y., having thus descended to the rank 
of a private gentleman, embarked with a numerous retinue, 
in a fleet of fifty sail,* for Spain. The passage was stormy. 
On the 28th of January, 1556, he landed at Loredo, in Bis- 
cay. As he stepped upon the shore he prostrated himself 
upon the ground, exclaiming, " Naked I came into the 
world, and naked I return to thee, thou common mother 
of mankind." Then, holding a crucifix before him, with 
streaming eyes, and all unmindful of the group around, he 
uttered an impassioned prayer for the divine guidance and 
blessing. By slow stages, and with some delays, Charles 
reached the convent. 

There is considerable diversity in the accounts trans- 
mitted to us of the cloister life of Charles Y. The narra- 
tive given by Robertson, carefully collated from original 
manuscripts, is different, in some of the details, from those 
given by Prescott and Motley, who were no less painstaking 
and careful in their investigations. We tell the story here 
in accordance with the best evidence which can be found. 

The emperor, in preparation for his retirement, had 



294 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOEY. 

caused a small building, two stories high, with four low 
rooms of moderate size on each floor, to be erected against 
the south wall of the monastery. The house faced the 
south, with a hall passing through the centre. Piazzas ran 
along the east and west sides. A window of the chamber 
which Charles occupied opened into the chapel of the mon- 
astery, so that Charles could attend mass without leaving 
his chamber, or even his bed. 

The rooms were comfortably furnished, and the em- 
peror's wardrobe was ample. His bed-chamber was tapes- 
tried, in mourning, with black cloth of the finest texture. 
Large clocks were in the rooms, and the emperor was not 
only served from silver plate, but the meanest utensils of 
his chamber and kitchen were also silver. A choice col- 
lection of paintings adorned the wallsr A pleasant garden, 
with a high inclosure, which sheltered the recluse from 
all observation, invited the emperor, beneath those sunny 
skies, to shady walks, over-arched with chestnut, walnut, 
and other trees of dense foliage, and to the culture of fruits 
and flowers. Though fond of art, Charles was not of a 
literary turn of mind, and his library was meagre, consist- 
ing mostly of books of devotion. The retinue which 
accompanied him to this retreat consisted of about fifty 
persons. 

As Charles entered the chapel of this his last earthly 
home, the whole brotherhood chanted the Te Deum. The 
emperor then knelt in prayer before the altar, and all the 
monks gathered reverentially around him. Charles, who 
could not lay aside his life-long airs of a sovereign, received 
them graciously, and expressed himself as well -pleased 
with the arrangements which had been made for his ac- 
commodation. Indeed Charles was still officially emperor. 



CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 295 

Though the throne of Spain had passed entirely from his 
hands, renunciation of the imperial crown of Germany 
had not taken effect, as the Diet had not yet held its ses- 
sion. 

The life of the emperor in the convent was methodical 
and monotonous. He attended mass every morning in the 
chapel, and dined at an early hour at the refectory of the 
convent. After dinner, which with its conversation gener- 
ally occupied much time, the emperor listened to the read- 
ing of some book of devotion. As the evening drew on, 
he listened in the chapel to the preaching of a sermon 
from one of three or four clergymen who, in consequence 
of their eloquence, had been brought to the convent for 
the benefit of the emperor. He was attentive to all the 
fasts and festivals of the Church, and imposed upon him- 
self vigorous penances. He scourged himself with such 
severity of flagellation that the cords of the whip were 
stained with his blood. No woman was allowed to ap- 
proach within two bow-shots of the gates of the convent 
under penalty of two hundred stripes. 

Being naturally fond of mechanical pursuits, Charles 
beguiled many hours in carving puppets and constructing 
children's playthings, and even some articles of household 
utility. He was much interested in the mechanism of 
watches, and his rooms were filled with time-pieces of ev- 
ery variety of construction. It is said that when he found 
how impossible it was to make any two of them keep pre- 
cisely the same time, he exclaimed upon the folly of at- 
tempting to compel all men to think alike upon the subject 
of religion. Occasionally some of the nobles residing in 
the vicinity were admitted to the presence of the emperor, 
and he conversed with them with interest and animation. 



296 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Charles had two sisters, dowager -queens of France and 
Hungary, both of whom visited him in his retirement. 

There was also a bright little boy, twelve years of age, 
in the imperial household, who was an object of especial 
interest and attachment to Charles. This child, who after- 
wards obtained renown as Don John of Austria, it was 
subsequently ascertained was a natural son of the emperor, 
though at the time the fact was known only to one mem- 
ber of the imperial family. It seems to be pretty well es- 
tablished, though such has not been the general impression, 
that Charles took a lively interest in the progress of public 
affairs. His son Philip constantly consulted him upon 
great questions of public policy. The emperor's daughter 
fToanna was appointed regent of Castile. She resided at a 
distance of about fifty leagues from the convent, and kept 
up a constant correspondence with her father, soliciting his 
advice. The income which Charles settled upon himself 
was twenty thousand ducats (about $40,000), payable quar- 
terly in advance. 

Charles, a very severe sufferer from general debility, was 
quite helplessly crippled, and endured the severest pangs 
of the gout. • Under the pressure of this bodily suffering 
and perhaps of constitutional gloom, inherited from his in- 
sane mother, he sank gradually into a state of the profound- 
est dejection. It was evident to all that his life could not 
be much prolonged. Under these circumstances he adopt- 
ed the extraordinary idea of rehearsing his own funeral. 
Quite different accounts are given of the details of this act. 
Indeed modern researches have thrown doubt upon the 
whole statement. But the act was in harmony with the 
character of Charles ; and it seems incredible that such a 
narrative as a mere fabrication, could have obtained such 



CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 297 

credence. Some represent the emperor as placed in the 
coffin, and thus passing through the whole ceremony un- 
til deposited in the tomb. Others represent him attend- 
ing as a spectator, muffled in a dark mantle. The mock 
burial, as usual in the monastery, took place at night. The 
chapel was lighted with tapers, and hung in black. The 
monks were all present in their monastic garb. A huge 
catafalque shrouded in black, in the centre of the chapel, 
supported the coffin, which held, or was supposed to hold, 
the body of the emperor. The death-knell was tolled by 
the convent bells, requiems were chanted by the choir, and 
the burial service was performed. 

After the service was closed, and the procession had re- 
tired from the chapel, the emperor, either rising, in his 
shroud, from his coffin, or emerging from some place of con- 
cealment knelt before the dimly-lighted altar in prayer, and 
then, exhausted by emotion and chilled with sepulchral cold, 
returned from his burial to his chamber, to pass the remain- 
der of the night in prayer. The shock of this solemn scene 
was too much for the old monarch's enfeebled frame and 
weakened mind. He was soon after seized by a fever, and 
it. became evident that his end was approaching. 

When informed of this, he expressed much satisfaction, 
saying that it was what he had long desired. The devout, 
prayerful, shall we say conscientious bigot, with dying breath 
urged his son Philip to extirpate heresy from his realms by 
all the energies of the Inquisition, without favor or mercy 
to any one. " So," says he, ''you shall have my blessing, 
and the Lord shall prosper all your undertakings." Philip 
fulfilled these injunctions with cruelty which one would 
think must have flooded with tears the eyes of angels. 
The emperor found consolation in having passages of 

13" 



298 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Scripture read to him : the ceremony of extreme unction 
was performed, and he partook, after it, of the communion, 
saying that it was a good provision for the long journey upon 
which he was about to set out. He knelt at his bedside, 
uttering such expressions of contrition, and pleading so 
earnestly for the forgiveness of his sins, as to bring tears to 
the eyes of all who were present. 

On the 21st of September, two hours after midnight, the 
emperor perceived that the death -summons had come. 
"ISFow is the time," he exclaimed. A lighted taper was 
placed in his right hand. With his left he feebly held a 
silver crucifix. The empress had held it in her dying hour. 
Both earthly and heavenly love were blended in the gaze 
which he fixed upon the sacred emblem. The archbishop 
was reading the solemn words of the Psalm, " Out of the 
depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord," when the dying 
man, slightly raising his head, pressed the crucifix to his 
lips, and saying, in feeble accents, " Yes, Jesus," sank back 
dead. It is well that God, who is to pass judgment upon 
such a character, is infinite in wisdom and in love. Hu- 
man judgment is here quite bewildered. But one thing is 
certain. As with Charles Y., so with every other man, there 
can be no true repose in death, but in the well-grounded 
assurance that one's peace is made with God. 

Charles Y. died the 21st of September, 1568, in the fif- 
ty-ninth year of his age. His pathway through life, along 
the summits of power, was ever enveloped in clouds and 
storms. He could seldom have experienced an emotion of 
joy. In resigning his crown, he said to his son, " I leave 
you a heavy burden ; for since my shoulders have borne it 
I have not passed one day exempt from disquietude." 

Indeed there could have been but little happiness for any 



CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 299 

one in those dark days of oppression and blood. Europe 
was as the crater of a volcano, ever in violent eruption. 
The Turks were advancing upon Europe by the valley of 
the Danube, sparing neither age nor sex, burning the cities 
and devastating the country. The Christian nations were 
also engaged in incessant wars with one another, baron 
against baron, duke against duke, king against king. From 
all lands an almost incessant wail of misery ascended to the 
ear of God. 

The son of Charles Y., Philip II., who succeeded his 
father upon the throne of Spain, was born at Valladolid, 
in 1527. His mother Isabella was the daughter of Emanuel, 
King of Portugal. She died when thirty-six years of age. 
Charles Y., who was but four years her senior, was thrown 
into an agony of grief by her death, and testified to the 
devotion of his attachment by never marrying again. All 
contemporaneous history describes Isabella as worthy of this 
love. She seems to have been one of the noblest of women. 
Philip, at the time of his mother's death, was but twelve 
years old. In December, 1543, Philip married Mary, 
daughter of the King of Portugal. His destined bride, 
whom Philip had never yet seen, left Portugal for Castile, 
accompanied by the Archbishop of Lisbon and a numerous 
train of nobles. A splendid embassy was sent out to 
meet her, and to accompany her to Salamanca. The pal- 
ace at Badajoz was decorated for her reception with Ori- 
ental magnificence. 

As Mary, with an escort which numbered thousands, 
approached Salamanca, Philip, eager to catch a sight of his 
bride, sallied out in disguise, with a few attendants, to meet 
her a few miles from the city. He wore the dress of a 
huntsman, with a slouched hat and a gauze mask. Thus 



300 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

he could mingle with the crowd, draw near the princess, 
and examine her person and features at his leisure. 

Mary was beautiful, having a pleasing countenance and 
a very fine figure. She was dressed in cloth of silver em- 
broidered with golden flowers. Her mantle and hat were of 
violet-colored velvet, figured with gold. She was mounted 
upon a mule with a silver saddle and housings of rich bro- 
cade. A numerous procession from the city, composed of 
the professors of the university, in their academic gowns, 
the judges and municipal officers, in their gorgeous robes 
of ofi&ce, the military, horse and foot, in very brilliant uni- 
form. Thus accompanied by the peal of martial bands and 
the shouts of the populace, Mary entered the gates of the 
gorgeous and sumptuously-furnished palace of Badajoz. 

The next evening they were married. The marriage 
festivities were prolonged for a week. The proudest aris- 
tocracy of Europe vied with each other in the display, as 
feasts and tournaments succeeded each other. Both bride 
and bridegroom were eighteen years of age. The new-mar- 
ried pair soon repaired to Yalladolid. A few months passed 
swiftly away, when Mary gave birth to a son, Don Carlos, 
and sank herself into the grave. Thus rapidly did the 
dirge succeed the merry ringing of the marriage bell. The 
body of Mary, beautiful even in death, was conveyed to 
Granada, and was afterwards removed to a magnificent 
mausoleum reared by her husband to her memory in the 
Escurial. The babe of this young mother lived to endure 
a fate more sad than has often fallen to the lot of humanity. 

It will be remembered that Catharine of Aragon, young- 
est daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, married Arthur, 
Prince of Wales, son of Henry YII. of England. Five 
months after their marriage Arthur died. She then mar- 



CHAKLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 801 

ried Arthur's brother Ilenry, who subsequently became 
Henry VIII. After a union of twenty years Ilenry ob- 
tained a divorce, that he might marry the beautiful Anne 
Boleyn, one of the queen's maids of honor. Mary, the 
daughter of Catharine and Henry YIII., succeeded to the 
throne of England in 1553. She was an earnest Eoman 
Catholic, as was also her mother Catharine. 

Charles Y., an ambitious father, who was then upon the 
throne, influenced solely by affairs of state, without consult- 
ing the inclinations of his son, chose this maiden queen for 
the next bride of Philip. She was unattractive in person, 
gloomy in disposition, eleven years older than Philip, and 
austerely a religionist. The cruelty with which she pur- 
sued heresy has given her the unenviable title of "Bloody 
Mary." Philip, though zealous for the Church, placed but 
little restraint upon his sensual indulgences. He loved 
power, was accustomed to obey his father, and made no 
objections to the match. 

The marriage contract was settled without either of the 
parties having seen each other. It was fitting that the son 
of the emperor should go in great state to obtain his bride. 
A fleet of a hundred sail was riding at anchor at Corunna, 
ready to receive him. Four thousand of the best troops in 
Spain were embarked in splendid uniforms. In addition to 
these, there was a numerous retinue of all the flower of the 
Spanish nobility, with their wives, vassals, minstrels, and 
merry-makers. A prosperous sail brought this fleet with- 
in sight of the shores of England, where it was met by the 
combined fleet of England and Flanders. On the 19th of 
July, 1554, the squadron anchored in the port of South- 
ampton. A number of gorgeousl3^-decorated barges im- 
mediately put out from the shore, conspicuous among 



302 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

which was the royal barge, with a very rich silken canopy 
embroidered with gold. It was manned by sailors in the 
royal livery of white and green. This, which was called 
the queen's barge, conveyed Philip to the land, while the 
rest took the nobles and their retinues. 

A large assemblage of English nobles met Philip on the 
shore. The prince was dressed in a suit of black silk velvet, 
richly decorated with ornaments of gold. Carriage-roads 
were then rare in England. A very handsome horse was 
provided for him, which he mounted and, being a very 
fine rider, he attracted much admiration by the grace with 
which he managed his spirited steed. In accordance with 
the religious customs of the times, the procession at first 
moved to the church, where mass was performed, and 
thanks offered to God for the prosperous voyage. 

Philip remained for several days in Southampton, grace- 
fully receiving and requiting the attentions which were 
lavished upon him, until the Earl of Pembroke arrived 
with a brilliant company of two hundred mounted gentle- 
men to escort him to Winchester. The splendor of the es- 
cort was also increased by a large body of English archers 
showily dressed in uniform of yellow and red, the livery 
of the house of Aragon. 

The appointed day for the journey was unpropitious. 
A fierce storm raged of wind and rain. Eegardless of the 
tempest, Philip wrapped his red coat around him, and, 
with a broad slouched hat .over his eyes, galloped on to 
Winchester, a distance of about twenty miles. As he ad- 
vanced, his retinue rapidly increased by accessions from 
the neighboring gentry until it amounted to several thou- 
sands. Late in the afternoon they reached Winchester, 
spattered with mud and drenched with rain. That even- 



CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 303 

ing Philip had his first private interview with Marj^, who 
had come there to meet him. The next day there was a 
pubMc reception in the great hall of the palace. The 
courtiers from England, Spain, and Flanders thronged the 
hall, while Philip and Mary conversed side by side under 
a stately canopy. On the next ensuing day the marriage 
took place. Mary had provided her youthful husband 
with his bridal suit. It was composed of white satin, em- 
broidered with gold, and richly frosted with precious 
stones. Mary also was dressed in white satin, richly deco- 
rated with golden embroidery, studded and fringed with 
the most costly jewels. With this dress, bright red slip- 
pers and a mantle of richly-embroidered black velvet form- 
ed rather a curious contrast. 

The marriage ceremony was performed in the cathedral, 
with pompous rites, which occupied four hours. Philip 
and Mary were seated beneath a royal canopy upon a plat- 
form, with an altar before them. The remainder of the 
vast edifice was thronged with the nobility of England, 
Flanders, and Spain. After the utterance of the marriage 
vows mass was performed, and then Philip led his faded 
bride from the church. " The eftect of the spectacle," it is 
said, " was heightened by the various costumes of the two 
nations ; the richly -tinted and picturesque dresses of the 
Spaniards, and the solid magnificence of the English and 
Flemings mingled together in gay confusion. The glitter- 
ing procession moved slowly on to the blithe sounds of fes- 
tal music, while the air was rent with the loud acclamations 
of the populace, delighted, as usual, with the splendor of 
the pageant." 

A sumptuous banquet was prepared in the great hall of 
the episcopal palace. Philip and Queen Mary, with the 



804: EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

officiating bishop, sat under a gorgeous canopy upon a 
dais. The roj^al table was spread with dishes of gold. 
The nobles sat at tables below, which also glittered -with 
gold and silver plate. Exquisite music enlivened the re- 
past. Feasting was succeeded by a ball. And yet all the 
nuptial festivities were closed by nine o'clock in the even- 
ing. After a few days of rejoicing at Winchester the bri- 
dal couple repaired to London. They made their public 
entry on horseback, greeted by all the customary demon- 
strations of popular joy. Weary of these pageants, the 
royal pair sought a brief period of retirement at Hampton 
Court. Both Philip and Mary were earnest Christians, in 
accordance with the views of the Catholic Church at that 
time. Heresy was deemed the greatest of crimes. "Bet- 
ter not reign at all," said Philip, " than reign over here- 
tics." Henry YIII., the father of Mary, had broken off 
from the Holy Father at Eome, and had virtually an- 
nounced himself as Pope of the English Church. Both 
Philip and Mary were very anxious to re-establish the re- 
lations of the English Church with Eome. Successfully in 
pursuit of this end they made use of all the influences of 
bribery and persuasion. 

Parliament met at Whitehall. Mary, the queen, sat 
with Philip under a canopy. The Pope's legate sat by the 
side of the queen. A petition was then presented by the 
chancellor of the realm, praying, in behalf of the lords and 
commons of England, for reconciliation with the Papal See. 
The whole assembly kneeled before the Papal legate, re- 
receiving absolution and benediction. Thus was England 
purified from heresy and restored to the communion of 
Eome. The event was hailed with rejoicing in all the 
great capitals of Christendom. There were of course in 



CHARLES V. AND HIS SON PHILIP. 805 

the nation dissentients. The fires of persecution against 
such raged fiercely. Many perished at the stake. 

The health of the queen became feeble. It was sup- 
posed that she was about to give birth to an heir to the 
throne. It proved but an attack of dropsy. Philip soon 
tired of his unattractive spouse, whom he had married with- 
out love, influenced solely by ambition. His position was 
uncongenial. He was not King of England, but merely 
husband of the queen. His Spanish and Flemish follow- 
ers quarrelled with the English. There was no happiness 
in the palace. Such was the state of affairs when Philip, 
to his great relief, and to the joy of his followers, was sum- 
moned by his father to Flanders to attend the ceremony of 
abdication, which we have already described. 

Mary loved her young and handsome husband, and 
bitterly mourned over his departure. With a heavy heart 
she accompanied him down the Thames as far as Green- 
wich, where the}^ parted. Philip passed on to Dover, and 
crossed to Calais, which was then held by the English. A 
military escort, sent forward by his father, met him on the 
road, and in the latter part of September, 1555, he entered 
Brussels in truly imperial splendor. 



306 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE REIGN OF PHILIP II. 

(From 1558 A.D. to 1568 a.d.) 

Extent of the Empire of Philip II. — Sadness of Queen Mary. — Her Death. — 
Philip solicits the Hand of Queen Elizabeth. — Marries Elizabeth of France. 
— Disappointment of his son, Don Carlos. — Death of Henry I. — The Autode 
Fe.— Sorrows of Isabella. — Fate of Don Carlos. — The Father accused of the 
Murder of his Son. 

BY virtue of the abdication of Charles Y. his son, Philip, 
became one of the most powerful monarchs upon the 
globe. He was king of united Spain. He was also King of 
Naples and Sicily and Duke of Milan. He was sovereign of 
the Low Countries, which comprehended some of the most 
enlightened, populous, and powerful provinces in Christen- 
dom. As husband of the Queen of England, who doted 
upon him, he had much influence with the British Cabinet. 
The Cape Yerd Islands and the Canaries were under his 
sway. A large portion of the Mediterranean coast in Afri- 
ca acknowledged his dominion, as also the Philippine and 
Spice Islands in Asia. He inherited those islands which 
Columbus had conferred upon Spain in the West Indies, 
and also the vast realms of Mexico and Peru, which subse- 
quent discoverers and adventurers had won for the Spanish 
crown. Such was the power which passed into the hands 
of a young man not thirty years of age, of moderate abili- 
ties, in religion a fanatic, and in morals a debauchee. The 
power of this young man was absolute. There was no con- 
stitution to restrain him. In the Netherlands indeed there 



THE REIGN OF PHILIP II. 307 

was a slight show of independence. It was the shadow 
only. The crown had completely triumphed over the no- 
bles in Spain, and the Cortes, which was occasionally assem- 
bled, became a mere state pageant. 

Philip, wielding this colossal power, which eclipsed that 
of every other monarchy in Europe, established himself at 
Madrid. From his palace there he sent forth his edicts to 
the remotest bounds of his almost boundless realms. 

A year and a half elapsed before Philip, in March, 1557, 
revisited England. His fond wife, in many affectionate let- 
ters, had importuned him to return. His object seems to 
have been, not so much to pay her an affectionate visit, as 
to constrain her to unite with him in his war against 
France. In this he succeeded. After a visit of four 
months, during which he was annoyed by the excessive 
fondness of his infirm, emaciate, and dejected wife, he re- 
turned to the Netherlands. Poor Queen Mary was as un- 
happy as a woman well could be. Her health was wretch- 
ed; her love was not requited ; her husband was only anx- 
ious to avoid her ; she had no children, really no friends, 
and not only her throne but her life was menaced by con- 
spiracies. The humblest subject in the realm could not 
envy the lot of the queen. On the 17th of November, 
1558, Mary died, utterly weary of the world. Her half-sis- 
ter Elizabeth ascended the throne of England. 

Philip was at Brussels when the news of the death of 
his wife reached him. Though her obsequies were attended 
with all the external demonstrations of respect, and though 
Philip doubtless regretted thus losing his hold upon the 
crown of England, it can not be supposed that the loss of 
a wife whom he had never loved caused him any real sor- 
row. The remains of the unhappy Mary had not reposed 



308 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

one month in Westminster Abbey ere Philip made propo- 
sals for the hand of Elizabeth, her successor upon the 
throne. But Elizabeth espoused the Eeformed religion. 
Parliament reversed the decree establishing the Eoman 
Catholic faith. Philip could not think of marrying a Prot- 
estant. Thus the negotiation ended. 

Philip seems to have been impatient for new nuptials. 
But a few weeks elapsed ere an alliance was effected with 
the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of the King of France. 
She was fourteen years of age, and had been espoused to 
Philip's only son, Don Carlos, who was also fourteen. 
Queen Elizabeth was very much piqued in seeing how 
easily her lover could turn to another. Assuming that she 
had not given a positive refusal to his application for her 
hand, wshe testily exclaimed to the Spanish minister, " Your 
master must have been much in love with me, not to be 
able to wait for one month." The marriage ceremony 
with Elizabeth of France took place on the 24th of June, 
1559, the Duke of Alva acting as his sovereign's proxy. 
Philip was then thirty-two years of age. The marriage 
festival was attended by all those brilliant displays which 
were characteristic of that spectacle-loving age. A sad 
event closed these days of rejoicing. 

The French king, Henry IT., delighted in those martial 
exercises of the tournament, in which he greatly excelled. 
He challenged a young Scotch noble, the Count of Mont- 
morency, to run a tilt. The two powerful horses, bearing 
their armored riders, met with a furious shock in the mid- 
dle of the lists. The lance of Montmorency struck the 
helmet of Henry with such force that the rim gave way, 
and a portion of the splintered lance pierced the eye of the 
king. The wound proved mortal. At the expiration of 



THE REIGN OF PHILIP 11. 6i)\) 

ten days of great agony the king died, in the forty-second 
year of his age. This event took place a few months after 
the death of Charles V. 

Philip had not forgotten the injunction of his father to 
prosecute what the Church deemed heresy with the utmost, 
rigor. Much of his time he spent in Germany, leaving the 
regency of Spain in the hands of his sister Joanna. In 
August, 1559, he returned to Spain and resumed the gov- 
ernment, of which his sister was heartily weary. The Eef- 
ormation was silently and rapidly advancing in Spain. 
Philip returned breathing threatenings and slaughter, de- 
termined to crush it. Pope Paul IV. issued a brief to the 
Spanish inquisitor-general ordering him to bring to condign 
punishment all suspected of heresy of whatever rank or pro- 
fession. The wretched bigot Philip followed this brief with 
an edict condemning all who bought, sold, or read prohibit- 
ed works to be burned alive. Decree followed decree in 
quick succession, in which the Pope, Philip II., and the 
Spanish inquisitor-general, Yaldes, combined all their ener- 
gies to detect and mercilessly to punish any swerving from 
the established faith of the Eoman Church. 

By secret spies and with consummate cunning the pre- 
liminary intrigues were prosecuted, until simultaneously, 
all over the kingdom, every person without exception sus- 
pected of heresy was arrested and thrown into the prisons 
of the Inquisition. In Seville alone eight hundred were 
arrested on the first day. The accused were dragged, one 
by one, from their dungeons, without counsel, without any 
friend to cheer, and terrified, bewildered, were placed often 
upon the rack until every joint had been wrenched from 
its socket, in the attempt to extort such confession as the 
inquisitors desired to obtain. We can not enter into the 



310 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

detail of these tortures. They are too horrible. The 
reader could not endure the recital. What must it have 
been for those who had to endure the reality ? All this 
was done in the name of the meek and lowly Jesus. Out- 
, raged humanity, with eye moistened and cheek flushed 
with indignation, in view of this fiendish cruelty, can not 
but pray that if these ecclesiastical torturers escaped the 
penalty of their crimes in this world, they may not escape 
it in the world to come. God, a loving God, has implanted 
in every human breast a sense of justice which demands 
that such crimes should not pass unpunished. 

The doctrine of legitimacy, of divine right to govern 
nations, in placing Philip 11. upon the throne of Spain, had 
surrendered the Spanish people to the dominion of one ut- 
terly despicable, both morally and intellectually. The first 
act of burning, under these decrees, took place at Yallado- 
lid in May, 1559. The example was followed in twelve of 
the principal cities of the kingdom which were the appoint- 
ed seats of the Holy Office. A second auto de /e, or act 
of faith, as this demoniac burning alive of human beings 
was called, took place in Yalladolid in October of the same 
year. The Pope wished to invest the scene with all the 
terrors of the Day of Judgment. That he might draw an 
immense crowd, an indulgence of forty days was granted 
to all who should be present at the spectacle. 

The tragedy was enacted in the great square of the city. 
At one end of the square a large platform was erected, 
richly carpeted and decorated, where seats were ranged for 
the inquisitors. A royal gallery was constructed for the 
king and his court. Two hundred thousand spectators sur- 
rounded the arena. At six o'clock in the morning all the 
bells of the city began to toll the funeral knell. A solemn 



THE EEIGN OF PHILIP II. 311 

procession emerged from the dismal fortress of the Inqui- 
sition. A body of troops led the van. Then came the 
condemned. There were two classes; the first consisting 
of those who were to be punished with confiscation and im- 
prisonment, and the second of those who were to suffer 
death. The latter were covered with a loose gown of yel- 
low cloth, and wore upon the head a paper cap of conical 
form. Both the gown and the cap were covered with pic- 
tures of flames fanned and fed by demons. Two priests 
were by the side of each one of the victims, urging him to 
abjure his errors. Those who were merely to incur loss of 
property and to be thrown into the dungeons of the Inqui- 
sition were clothed in garments of black. A vast con- 
course of dignitaries of state and of the common people 
closed the procession. The fanaticism of the times was 
such that probably but few of the people had any sympathy 
with the sufferers. 

The ceremonies were opened with a sermon by the 
Bishop of Zamora. Then the whole assembled multitude 
took an oath, upon their knees, to defend the Inquisition 
and the purity of the Catholic faith, and to inform against 
any one who should swerve from the faith. Then those 
who, to escape the flames, had expressed penitence for their 
errors, after a very solemn recantation, were absolved from 
death. But heresy was too serious a crime to be forgiven^ 
even upon penitence. All were doomed to the confiscation 
of property and to imprisonment — some to imprisonment 
for life in the dungeons of the Inquisition. Their names 
were branded with infamy, and in many cases their imme- 
diate descendants were rendered ineligible to any public 
office. These first received their doom, and under a strong 
guard were conveyed back to prison. 



812 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

And now all eyes were turned to the little band of 
thirty, who, in the garb of ignominy and with ropes around 
their necks, were waiting their sentence. Many of these 
were men illustrious for rank, and still more renowned for 
talents and virtues. Their countenances were wan and 
wasted, their frames emaciate, and many of them were dis- 
torted by the cruel ministry of the rack. Those who were 
willing to make confession were allowed the privilege of 
being strangled before their bodies were exposed to the tor- 
ture of the fire. After being strangled by the garrote^ their 
bodies were thrown into the flames. Enfeebled by suffer- 
ing, all but two thus purchased exemption from being 
burned alive. 

One of these, Don Carlos de Seso, was a Florentine no- 
ble. He had married a Spanish lady of high rank, and 
had taken up his residence in Spain, where he had adopted 
the principles of the Eeformation. For fifteen months, 
with unshaken constancy, he had suffered in the dungeons 
of the Inquisition. When sentence of death at the stake 
was pronounced upon him, he called for pen and paper in 
his cell. His judges supposed that he intended to make 
confession. Instead of that, he wrote a very eloquent 
document, avowing his unshaken trust in the great truths 
of the Eeformation. De Seso had stood very high in the 
regards of Philip's father, Charles Y. As he was passing 
before the royal gallery to be chained to the stake, he look- 
ed up to Philip and said, "Is it thus that you allow your 
innocent subjects to be persecuted?" The king replied, 
"If it were my own son I would fetch the wood to burn 
liim, were he such a wretch as thou art." He was chained 
to the stake. As the flames slowly enveloped him in their 
fiery wreaths, he called upon the soldiers to heap up the 



THE REIGN OF THILIP II. 313 

fagots that his agonies might sooner terminate. Soon life 
was extinct, and the soul, we trust, of the noble martyr was 
borne on angel wings to Heaven. 

The fellow-sufferer of De Seso was Domingo de Eexas, 
son of the Marquis of Posa. Five of this noble family, in- 
cluding the eldest son, had been victims of the Inquisition. 
De Kexas had been a Dominican monk. In accordance 
with usage, he retained his sacerdotal habit until he stood 
before the stake. Then, in the midst of the jeers of the 
populace, his garments were one by one removed, and the 
vestments of the condemned, with their hideous picturings, 
were placed upon him. He attempted to address the spec- 
tators. Philip angrily ordered him to be gagged. A piece 
of cleft wood was thrust into his mouth, causing great pain. 
He was thus led to the stake, and through such sufferings 
attained the martyr's crown. The burning-place was not 
in the public square where sentence was pronounced, but 
in a selected spot just outside of the walls of the city. The 
cruel exhibition occupied eight hours, from six o'clock in 
the morning until two o'clock in the afternoon. 

In this spirit the persecution raged year after year. 
Neither age, sex, nor rank were exempt. Nine bishops 
were doomed to the most humiliating penance. Carranza, 
Archbishop of Toledo, was of illustrious Castilian birth. 
He had accompanied Philip to England upon the occasion 
of his marriage to Queen Mary. His elevation to the archi- 
episcopal see of Toledo had excited the rancorous jealousy 
of the grand inquisitor Yaldes. Carranza was accused of 
believing in the doctrine oi justification hy faith. A ruffian 
band of the inquisitors entered the episcopal palace at mid- 
night, dragged the prelate from his bed, and thrust him into 
the dungeons of the Inquisition. Here he was kept in sol- 

14 



814 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

itary confinement for two years without the slightest knowl- 
edge of what was transpiring in the outside world. Pius Y. 
then made efforts to have the illustrious prisoner brought 
before his own tribunal. By the artifice of Philip and the 
grand inquisitor this plan was thwarted until five more 
years of cruel imprisonment had passed away. He was 
then sent a prisoner to the Castle of St. Angelo, with charges 
filed against him in a vast complication of papers. Six 
more years of captivity passed ere he was brought to his 
trial. Every nerve was strained by the Spanish inquisitors 
to secure his destruction. Pope Gregory XIII. was now 
upon the Pontifical throne. Three more years were em- 
ployed in the investigation and in coming to a decision. 
Before the tribunal of the Pope and the cardinals the 
archbishop stood alone, without a friend, without any as- 
sisting council. With bare head, and wan, and wasted with 
nearly eighteen years of imprisonment and woe, Carranza 
kneeled before his brother-man, called a Pope, to receive 
his doom. His views were declared heretical. He was 
suspended from his episcopal functions for five years, dur- 
ing which time he was to be imprisoned in the Convent of 
Orvieto. He was then required to do penance in seven of 
the principal churches of Eome. 

As the poor old man, unnerved by protracted misery, 
listened to this sentence, tears streamed down his cheeks. 
Bowing meekly in submission, he returned to his cell, and 
in sixteen days died of a broken heart. 

So fiercely was this persecution pushed throughout all 
Spain that nearly every trace of the Protestant religion 
was eradicated from the kingdom. Spain lapsed into a 
state of semi-barbarism. No freedom of conscience was al- 
lowed ; education was discouraged ; civil as well as eccle- 



THE KEIGN OF PHILIP II. 315 

siastical despotism trampled upon all human rights, and 
Spain became one of the most debased, impoverished, and 
wretched nations in Europe. 

Elizabeth of France, or Isabella, the corresponding name 
by which she was called by the Spaniards, who had been 
married by proxy to Philip, crossed the Pyrenees, to join 
her royal husband. An escort of French nobles accompa- 
nied the royal bride, a child of fourteen years. The renown- 
ed Duke of Infantado, one of the proudest of the Spanish 
grandees, met the queeu, with pomp of retinue and etiquette 
of which it is difficult to form a conception in these more 
rational modern days. The duke was attended by fifty 
pages dressed picturesquely in the gayest colors of satin 
and brocade. The nobles in his train were followed by 
twenty -five hundred gentleme^ mounted on splendid steeds. 
The caparisons of their horses were embroidered with gold 
and gems. The duke received the bride at Eoncesvalles, 
and conducted her to Guadalajara. At the entrance of the 
town a forest had been planted stocked with deer, through 
which the young queen rode. She was mounted on a milk- 
white horse, and was clad in ermine. The duke rode upon 
one side of her, the Cardinal of Burgos on the other. 

After repairing to the church where the Te Deum was 
chanted, the princess was conducted to the ducal castle. 
Here Philip was awaiting his bride. They had never before 
met. Isabella, whose artlessness, self-possession, and gay- 
ety won all hearts, gazed so intently upon her destined lord 
that Philip asked her playfully " if she were looking to see 
if he had any gray hairs in his head." She was slightly dis- 
concerted, for by the side of the king stood his son, Don 
Carlos, who was of the same age with Isabella, and for 
whom she had been originally intended. It is said that Is- 



316 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

abella looked "upon her youthful lover with great tender- 
ness, while her charms inspired Don Carlos with passionate 
attachment. This theme, the loves of Carlos and Isabella, 
has furnished the Spanish romancers with materials for many 
an exciting tale. 

Isabella was very beautiful, tall, graceful, with luxuriant 
tresses shading a very fair complexion, and with dark eyes 
soft and languishing. " So attractive was she," writes a 
Spanish chronicler, " that no cavalier durst look on her 
long, for fear of losing his heart, which, in that jealous court, 
must have proved the loss of his life." Don Carlos could 
not repress feelings of resentment in being thus robbed by 
his father of so beautiful a bride. The nuptials were cele- 
brated with all the customary pomp of music and feasting 
and dancing. The next morj^ing the royal pair, with their 
suite, left for Toledo. Here the young queen was received 
with all the splendor with which the Spanish court could 
invest the occasion. Triumphal arches spanned the streets. 
Wreaths of flowers garlanded verandahs and balconies. 
Gorgeous processions paraded the streets. Beautiful maid- 
ens, in picturesque attire, passed through the mazes and 
performed the astonishing evolutions of gipsy dances. 
Three thousand Spanish infantry engaged in a mock en- 
counter with a body of Moorish cavalry, whose uniforms 
and caparisons were picturesquely trimmed in arabesque 
fashions ; and last, though not least, in these nuptial festivi- 
ties, there was an auto defe. Toledo was one of the princi- 
pal stations of the Inquisition. This revolting scene of fa- 
naticism and cruelty, more revolting than the gladiatorial 
butcheries of pagan Eome, is represented as one of the most 
imposing, both in the number of the victims and the quali- 
ty of the spectators, which Toledo had ever witnessed. 



THE REIGN OF PHILIP II. 317 

Sorrow, in this world, ever treads closely upon the foot- 
steps of festivity. In the midst of these public rejoicings, 
of music, dancing, feasting, and burning victims alive at 
the stake, Isabella, as we must now call her, was seized by 
the small-pox. Great was the consternation. Even though 
her life might be spared, it was feared that the loathsome 
disease might destroy all her beauty. Fortunately the 
young queen escaped without a scar. 

There seems to be no abiding peace for any one in this 
world. Even where providence appears to lavish its best 
gifts, the imperfection of human nature invariably intro- 
duces the elements of bitterness and woe. Isabella had 
brought many ladies from France with her as friends and 
the embellishments of her court. The Spanish ladies were 
jealous of them, and quarrelled with them. After scenes 
of contention and strife which poisoned all joys in the pal- 
ace, Isabella was compelled to send her countrywomen 
back again to France. If brilliant state could make one 
happy, Isabella had no cause to complain. Her jewelry 
was priceless, her wardrobe rich in the extreme. No ex- 
pense was spared in furnishing her with gorgeous robes, 
and she seldom wore the same dress twice. She dined in 
state, thirty ladies being usually in attendance upon her. 
While some served her at the table, the rest stood around in 
the apartment. 

From Toledo the royal pair proceeded to Madrid, where 
Philip had prepared and furnished for his bride one of his 
most magnificent palaces. 

The richly carved and gilded ceilings of this palace, sit- 
uated in a clime then deemed delicious, the tapestried 
walls, the paintings and statuary which embellished the sa- 
loons and galleries, the noble park stocked with deer, all 



318 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

combined to render this royal mansion as attractive as earth- 
ly taste and opulence could create. But Philip found but 
little joy in this princely abode. The care of his wide- 
spread realms pressed upon him. Bitter complaints were 
continually reaching his ears from the Netherlands. To 
his sister, the regent, he wrote : 

" I have never had any other object in view than the 
good of my subjects. In all that I have done I have trod 
in the footsteps of my father, under whom the people of 
the Netherlands must admit that they lived contented and 
happy. As to the Inquisition, whatever people may say 
of it, I have never attempted any thing new. With regard 
to the edicts, I have been always resolved to live and die 
in the Catholic faith. I could not be content to have my 
subjects do otherwise. Yet I see not how this can be com- 
passed without punishing the transgressors. God knows 
how willingly I would avoid shedding a drop of Christian 
blood — above all, that of my people of the Netherlands ; and 
I should esteem it one of the happiest circumstances of my 
reign to be spared the necessity." 

In accordance with these views of supreme devotion to 
the Church, the king stated, in a subsequent dispatch, " I 
would rather lose a hundred thousand lives, if I had so 
many, than allow a single change in matters of religion." 
As our theme is Spanish history, we can not turn aside to 
the interesting and painful events transpiring in the Neth- 
erlands. Don Carlos, as he advanced to manhood, devel- 
oped a character of violence, lawlessness, extravagance, and 
profligacy for which it is difficult to account, except upon 
the supposition of insanity. And yet, with these repulsive 
eccentricities, he inspired those who approached him with 
very strong feelings of personal attachment. His father 



THE REIGN OF PHILIP II. 519 

distrusted liim, disliked liim, and studiously excluded him 
fmm all share in the business of state. 
^Many foreign courts coveted an alliance with the heir 
of the Spanish monarchy. Catherine de Medicis of France 
wished to secure his hand for a younger sister of Isabella. 
The Emperor and Empress of Germany endeavored to pro- 
mote his union with their daughter Anne. But Philip, for 
some unexplained reasons, did not favor these proposals. 
The father became so alienated from his hot-tempered and 
violent son that he refused to hold any intercourse with 
him. Under these circumstances Carlos resolved to escape 
from Spain, probably to take refuge in Yienna, where he 
hoped to find a royal greeting and a bride. He was desti- 
tute of funds. A confidential agent was sent to obtain 
loans. While these negotiations were in progress, Christ- 
mas of 1567 came. It was customary for the royal family 
upon that occasion, on what was called the Day of the In- 
nocents, to take the sacrament in public. For any one of 
the family to neglect this would have been a very great 
scandal. In preparation for this Carlos went to confess and 
receive absolution. At the confessional he stated that it 
was his full intention to kill a man with whom he had had 
a quarrel. Upon being closely questioned, he said that the 
man was his father, the king. The priest refused to grant 
absolution. Another was applied to. In his embarrass- 
ment he called a council of divines. There was great con- 
sternation. Absolution was refused, and a messenger was 
sent to acquaint the king with the whole matter. 

In the mean time the prince had obtained by loan a 
hundred and fifty thousand ducats, and was making ar- 
rangements to have horses in readiness for his flight. His 
conduct for some time had been more that of a maniac than 



320 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of a sane man. He had felt insecure in his father's palace 
at Madrid. He slept with a sword and dagger by his side, 
and a loaded musket within reach. A peculiar bolt fasten- 
ed his door. No one doubted the determination of the 
desperate man. The king was informed of all this. 

About midnight, preceded by a guard of four or five 
lords, with twelve privates, the king cautiously approached 
the door of his son's chamber. An artisan had deranged 
the machinery of the bolt so that it would not work. The 
king was carefully protected by armor over his clothes 
and on his head. The guard crept softly to the bed and 
secured the weapons. Carlos started up, demanded who 
was there, and leaped from the bed, endeavoring to grasp 
his arms. His father, who had prudently deferred ap- 
proaching until the weapons were secured, then came for- 
ward and ordered his son to return to bed and remain quiet. 

"What does your Majesty want of me?" inquired Don 
Carlos. 

" You will soon learn," the father sternly repUed. He 
then ordered the nobles who were present to hold him 
closely as a prisoner, not to allow him to leave the room, 
and to guard him with care, under penalty of beiug held 
as traitors. 

" Your Majesty," exclaimed Carlos, "had better kill me 
than keep me a prisoner. It will be a great scandal to the 
kingdom. If you do not kill me I will make way with 
myself." 

" You will do no such thing," the king replied, " for that 
would be the act of a madman." 

" Your Majesty," rejoined Carlos, " treats me so ill that 
you force me to this extremity. I am not mad, but you 
drive me to despair." 



THE REIGN OF PHILIP II. 321 

The poor young man, then twenty-three years of age, 
wept passionately, his sobs rendering his words scarcely 
audible. The unfeeling father searched the room and took 
all his papers, appointed six lords to guard him, two of the 
six to serve in rotation eacl\ night. His meat was cut be- 
fore it was brought into his chamber, and he was allowed 
no knife lest he should injure himself or others. A guard 
of twelve armed men was stationed in all the passages lead- 
ing to the tower of the castle in which the prince was con- 
fined. The windows were so strongly barricaded that he 
could not look out from them. He was cut off from all 
communication with his friends, and was deprived of all 
books except a few devotional treatises. 

The two nobles who in turn remained in his room by 
day and by night were ordered not to talk to him upon 
any affairs of government, to make no allusion whatever to 
his imprisonment, or any reply to his remarks upon the 
subject; to bring no message to him, and to bear none 
from him to the world without. No one was allowed to 
enter his apartment besides his guard, excepting his phy- 
sician, his harhero, and body-servant. The king's young 
wife, the beautiful Isabella, was effectually prevented, not- 
withstanding several attempts, from visiting the captive 
prince. It was very evident that the obdurate king intend- 
ed, that his son should never emerge alive from that 
prison. 

This living burial of a young prince, the heir to the 
Spanish monarchy, created a profound sensation through- 
out Spain and Europe. There were not a few found who 
entirely discredited the story of an attempt upon the king's 
life. Several foreign courts interposed in behalf of the 
prince. The feeling in Spain was so strong that though it 

14* 



322 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

was considered very unsafe to make any allusion to the 
subject, the king could not be blind to the excitement, and 
was haunted with the apprehension that there would be a 
popular outbreak for his rescue. Obviously not much re- 
liance can be placed in the accounts which the king caused 
to be given of the conduct of Don Carlos during his im- 
prisonment. No one could doubt that it would be a great 
relief to the king to have him die. In the course of a few 
months he did die. There are two stories upon this 
subject. It is impossible to ascertain with certainty 
which is true. The reader must judge which is most 
probable. 

It is said that the prince was thrown into a state of 
frenzy, and vainly endeavored to dash out his brains 
against the walls of his prison-house ; that his health rap- 
idly failed under the effect of mental excitement, combined 
with want of air and exercise ; that daily, as the fever 
burned more furiously in his veins, he became more ema- 
ciate ; that in order to hasten his death he would deluge 
the floor with water, and walk for hours with naked feet 
on the cold stone pavement ; that he would cause a warm- 
ing-pan to be filled with ice and snow, and placed in his 
bed ; that he would gulp down incredible quantities of ice- 
water ; that sometimes for days he would take no food 
whatever, and then, with his stomach debilitated by fast- 
ing, he would eat gluttonously, drinking three gallons or 
more of iced water ; that thus he brought on in the course 
of a few months vomiting, dysentery, death ; that in his 
last moments he repented, confessed, and died in the true 
faithA 

^^^^noiher account, certainly as reliable in its authenticity 
as the above, is that the king submitted the case to a secret 



THE REIGN OF PHILIP II. 323 

tribunal ; that it was decided, upon the evidence which the 
king presented, that Don Carlos was guilty of treason, the 
penalty of which was death ; that the king had power to 
naitigate or dispense with the penalty ; that the king de- 
clared that he ought not to allow his private feelings to in- 
terfere with the course of the law, but that the health of 
the prince was in so critical a state that his own excesses 
would soon bring him to the tomb ; that the guards of Don 
Carlos were instructed that they would serve the king by 
doing nothing to hinder the speedy death of Carlos ; that 
his physician was informed that it was very desirable that 
the death of the prince should appear to result from nat- 
ural causes ; that medicine was administered to the unsus- 
pecting patient, in which there were powders which slowly 
accomplished the end desired. 

Such are the two accounts. Certainly the character of 
Philip does not dissuade us from accepting the last. It is 
certain that many of the best informed of writers, and, 
among others, the noble Prince of Orange, boldly de- 
nounced Philip as the murderer of his son. At seven 
o'clock in the evening of the day in which the prince died 
his body was borne to its burial on the shoulders of several 
grandees. There was quite a gathering in the courtyard 
of the palace on the occasion. The king stood at an open 
window looking down upon the scene, but did not accom- 
pany the remains to their burial. The young queen wept 
bitterly over the death of Carlos. His remains were soon 
after removed to the gloomy vaults of the Escurial. The 
king ordered that no funeral honors should be paid to his 
memory, and that no mourning should be worn. Such 
was the life, and such the death of a prince of twenty-three 
years, who was born the heir of one of the mightiest of 



324 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

earthly monarchies. Terrible as was his fate his character 
was such, if any reliance can be placed upon the testimony 
of his contemporaries, that if he had lived and reigned, 
his tyranny, brutality, and profligacy would have plunged 
thousands of hearts into despair. 



PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 325 



CHAPTER XYI. 

PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 

(From 1568 A.D. to 1679 a.d.) 

Death of Isabella. — Anne of Austria. — Oppression of the Morescoes. — Their In- 
surrection. — Horrors of the Conflict. — Don John of Austria. — Anecdotes. — 
Religion and Bigotry. — Character of Philip. — The Escurial. — Death of Philip. 
— Reign of Philip III. — The Regency. — Death of Don John. 

TEEEE months after the death of the wretched Don 
Carlos, his unhappy mother-in-law, the young and 
beautiful Queen Isabella, gave birth to her third child, and, 
with her babe, sank into the grave. This sad event gave 
a new impulse to the imaginations of those who had im- 
agined a strong passion to exist between the prince and his 
stepmother. Though no one has cast reproach upon the 
fair fame of Isabella, many have attributed the death of 
both the prince and the queen to the jealousy of Philip. 
The Prince of Orange openly charges the king with the 
murder of both his son and his wife. The queen, when 
informed that she must die, seemed perfectly resigned to 
leave the world. With loving words she endeavored to 
cheer those who were weeping around her bedside. She 
partook of the sacrament, and the rite of extreme unction 
was administered. 

"The queen," writes one of the Spanish annalists, "spoke 
to her husband very naturally, and like a Christian. She 
took leave of him forever, and never did princess show 
more goodness and piety. She commended to him her 



326 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

two daugbters and her principal attendants, beseeching 
him to live in amity with the King of France, her brother, 
and to maintain peace." 

Philip seemed much affected in this last interview with 
his wife. Eetiring to his chamber, he sent her a fragment 
of the true cross, richly studded with gems, to sustain her in 
her last moments. Immediately after the king left, the 
French ambassador was summoned to her dying bed. 

" You see me," said Isabella, " in the act of quitting this 
vain world, to pass to a more pleasant kingdom, there, as I 
hope, to be forever with my God. Tell my mother the 
queen, and the king my brother, to bear my death with 
patience, and to comfort themselves with the reflection that 
no happiness on earth has ever made me so content as the 
prospect now does of approaching my Creator. I shall 
soon be in a better situation to do them service, and to im- 
plore God to take them and my brothers under his holy 
protection. Beseech them in my name to watch over their 
kingdom, that an end may be put to the heresies which 
have spread there. And I will pray Heaven in its mercy 
to grant that they may take my death with patience and 
hold me for happy." 

Then, in response to a few words of sympathy which 
the ambassador addressed to her, she said, " God has given 
me grace to despise the world and its grandeur, and to fix 
all my hopes on him and Jesus Christ. Never did a 
thought occasion me less anxiety than that of death." 

She remained perfectly conscious almost until the mo- 
ment when the last breath left her body. The tolling of 
the bells of the city announced her deatho The excitable 
populace filled the air with their lamentations. Her bur- 
ial was attended with all the most imposing and affecting 



PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 327 

ceremonials of woe. Dying suddenly, at the early age 
of twenty-tliree, she was exceedingly beautiful in death. 
None could gaze upon her lovely remains, her babe by her 
side, without tears. 

Eighteen months after this event the king led to the 
altar his fourth bride, Anne of Austria. It is a singular 
fact that this lady was also destined for Don Carlos. The 
Emperor and Empress of Germany had earnestly sought 
the alliance of their daughter with the young heir of Spain. 
Philip did not favor the match. The reputation of Philip 
may be inferred from the fact that he was openly accused 
of having murdered Isabella, that he might marry the 
young Anne of Austria. 

"We must now turn from these domestic scenes to others 
of more national moment. It will be remembered that in 
Southern Spain there was a very considerable population 
of the descendants of the Moors. They were called Moris- 
coes, and had been constrained, by bribes and threats, 
nominally to embrace Christianity. .They still, however, 
in secret clung to their old religion, adhering to the cus- 
toms of their ancestors, and speaking the Arabic language. 
They were denounced by the clergy as heretics, and the 
king resolved upon measures to eifect their more thorough 
conversion. It was accordingly decreed that the Moriscoes 
should all exchange their national dress for that of the 
Spaniards ; that the women should not veil their faces ; 
that weddings should be conducted in public, and after 
Christian forms ; that on the day of a marriage ceremony 
the doors of the house should be left open, that all passers- 
by might see whether they practised any Mohammedan 
rites; that all bathing - vessels should be destroyed; that 
they should no longer employ the Arabic language either 



328 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

in speaking or writing, but should adopt tlie Castilian 
tongue ; and that all Arabic names were to be exchanged 
for Spanish ones. These edicts were enforced by the se- 
verest penalties of banishment, fine, and imprisonment. 

On the first of January, 1568, the Moriscoes were assem- 
bled by the public crier, and by an imposing procession of 
Spanish officers, accompanied by music, in the principal 
squares of their cities. The cruel ordinance was read to 
them. With grief and indignation they listened to the 
atrocious decrees depriving them of their language, their 
customs, the privilege of bathing, and compelling their 
women to shock all their ideas of delicacy by appearing 
abroad unveiled. Some moaned piteously, wringing their 
hands in anguish. Some bit their lips with rage, and vow- 
ed to die rather than submit to such outrages. An imme- 
diate tumult was prevented by some of the more discreet 
persuading the excited multitude to appoint a committee 
to implore a mitigation of the decree. The most strenuous 
and persevering eflfo]:ts were made to avert the doom. All 
were unavailing. In their despair the Moriscoes were 
goaded, after twelve months of unendurable oppression, 
into a general insurrection. Thus far all our sympathies 
are with them» They were as lambs devoured by wolves. 

Suddenly our sympathies vanish. They are converted 
into tigers, more merciless than the most ferocious beasts 
of the forests. It would seem, from the history of man, 
that there is in his bosom a latent demon, waiting for an 
opportunity to burst forth. Early in 1569 the Moriscoes 
rose in a general insurrection. Immediately they com- 
menced the massacre, with every conceivable circumstance 
of cruelty, of all the Christians, men, women, and children 
within their reach. Language can scarcely exaggerate the 



PHILIP 11. , III., AND IV. 329 

horrors which ensued. Imagination can not conceive of 
greater cruelty. The Christians were burned to death in 
the buildings to which they had* fled for refuge. They 
were tortured with all the appliances of suffering which 
human ingenuity could devise. The Moorish women and 
children vied with the men in the most diabolical deeds 
of vengeance. Many a Moor had perished in the flames 
of the Inquisition. They now retaliated, exposing their 
victims to the most terrible tortures which fire could inflict. 
The recital of such scenes of fiendish cruelty causes the 
blood to curdle in one's veins. In less than a week three 
thousand of the Christian population thus perished. It is 
awful to contemplate such scenes of woe caused by man's 
inhumanity to man. As simply one of the incidents of 
the struggle, a large party of Christian families fled, 
protected by a small band of cavalry, on foot across the 
flinty paths of the mountains. Many of them had neither 
stockings nor shoes. Their locks were dishevelled by 
the wintry tempests, and their whole aspect presented 
an expression of unutterable woe. With their homes de- 
molished, in abject poverty, their husbands and brothers 
killed, there was nothing before them but life-long wretch- 
edness. 

And yet these very Moors, before they had been goaded 
to desperation by the outrageous edicts of Philip, had been 
kind neighbors and friends. The Moriscoes were so nu- 
merous, rich, and powerful, that they raised an efi&cient 
army of eight or ten thousand men, and fought several 
battles with intensest fury. But it was impossible for 
them long to withstand the power of the Spanish monarchy. 
The atrocities perpetrated by the triumphant Christians 
were almost equal to those which the Moors had inflicted. 



330 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

There were many noble men inspired by the spirit of true 
religion who tried to avert these horrors. But infuriate 
soldiers are not easily restrained. The unchained tiger, 
who can cage ? 

" The cruelties committed by the troops," says a Spanish 
writer, " were such as the pen refuses to record. I myself 
saw the corpse of a Morisco woman, covered with wounds, 
stretched upon the ground, with six of her children lying 
dead around her. She had succeeded in protecting a 
seventh, still an infant, with her body ; and though the 
lances which pierced her had passed through its clothes, it 
had marvellously escaped any injury. It was clinging to 
its dead mother's bosom, from which it drew milk that was 
mingled with blood. I carried it away and saved it." 

Eeligious rites were blended with the most atrocious 
acts of cruelty. The Spanish army, before entering into 
battle, knelt in prayer, invoking God's blessing. And after 
a victory, when weakened by debauchery, glutted with 
booty, and crimsoned with the blood of women and chil- 
dren, these fanatics, marching under the banner of the cross, 
repaired in solemn procession to the churches, where they 
prostrated themselves in adoration and chanted the Te 
Deum. From these acts of devotion they would proceed 
to divide their pillage. On one occasion sixteen hundred 
Moorish girls, many of them exceedingly refined and 
beautiful, were delivered up to the brutal soldiery. For a 
fortnight the Christian camp presented a carnival of riot 
and debauchery. 

The country of the Moriscoes was ere long overrun and 
subjugated. Wretched bands wandered among the mount- 
ains, perishing of hunger and cold. A young man now 
took part in these proceedings who deserves especial notice. 



PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 331 

He is known in history as Don John of Austria. Charles 
v., attracted by the beauty of a German girl, Barbara Blom- 
berg, took her as his guilty favorite. She gave birth to a 
child, Don John, about the year 1547. The emperor set- 
tled a small annuity upon the mother, but for some time 
paid no attention to the child. He was left to grow up 
among the boys of the village, with no other instruction 
than such as he received from the parish priest. But from 
his earliest years he developed unusual vivacity of mind 
and energy of character. At length the emperor, often in- 
fluenced by religious spasms, seemed to awake to the con- 
sciousness that he ought not to allow his own child to re- 
ceive no better training than could be found in the cottage 
of a peasant. 

Though not openly recognizing him, the child was trans- 
ferred to the care of a capable guardian in the neighborhood 
of Yalladolid. This gentleman, Luis Quixada, who is rep- 
resented as, in zeal for the faith and in devotion to the 
king, one of the noblest of the Spanish grandees, received 
Don John into his family. The wife of Quixada, a lady 
of illustrious birth, was even more distinguished by her 
virtues than by her rank. This lady was not informed of 
the secret of the lad's birth. Her husband told her that he 
was the son of a very dear friend ; and that he wished to 
adopt him, as they had no children of their own. The 
good lady received the child lovingly, for some time sus- 
pecting that he was the offspring of her husband from some 
intrigue previous to his marriage. This boy, whom they 
called by the name of Geronimo, was remarkably beau- 
tiful,and so gentle and affectionate in his nature as to 
win the most tender regard of his stepmother. In this 
noble family Geronimo acquired all those knightly qual- 



332 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ities which were so highly esteemed by the Spanish chiv- 
alry. 

When Charles Y., after his abdication, retired to his 
cloister life, the interest he took in the child was such that 
Quixada was directed to bring his family to the adjoining 
village of Ouacos. How often the emperor saw the child 
is uncertain, as he carefully kept the secret of his paterni- 
ty. It is not improbable that the boy had no suspicion 
that the emperor was his father. A Spanish writer records 
that " the boy sometimes was casually seen by the emper- 
or, who was careful to maintain his usual reserved and dig- 
nified demeanor, so that no one could suspect his secret. 
Once or twice the lad entered the apartment of his father, 
who doubtless spoke to him as he would have spoken to 
any other boy." 

Gradually, however, rumors began to rise in the neigh- 
borhood in reference to his birth. After the emperor's 
death there was found a sealed testamentary paper, ad- 
dressed to his son Philip, in which he acknowledged the 
child, gave directions in reference to his education, and set- 
tled upon him an estate in the kingdom of Naples with an 
annual income of about forty thousand ducats. In the 
mean time the queen's daughter Joanna, then regent in 
Spain, had heard rumors of her relationship to Gleronimo. 
Through her secretary she wrote to Quixada. He endeav- 
ored to evade the question. She then wrote, when he was 
absent, to his wife. It seems that she by this time had be- 
come enlightened upon the subject. Arrangements were 
made for her to bring the boy to a place where Joanna 
could see him. It is singularly illustrative of the times 
that the place selected was at an auto defe in Yalladolid. 
As in modern days an appointment would be made to 



PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 33 



Q 



meet at the theatre or the opera, so then the appointment 
was made to meet at an exciting festival where human be- 
ings were to be burned alive. 

On the appointed day Dona Magdalina, the wife of 
Quixada, took her seat, with Geronimo, on the platform 
erected for the grandees, in full view of the scaffold where 
the victims were to suffer. As Joanna, the regent, ap- 
proached with the royal train, she looked eagerly for the 
boy. The child shrunk back before her long and intense 
gaze. In his bright blue eyes, his ample forehead, his 
golden locks, she felt sure that she recognized the linea- 
ments of his race, and her heart yearned over the beautiful 
boy with a sister's love. She approached him, in the pres- 
ence of all threw her arms around his neck, and kissed 
him fondly, calling him her brother. 

This curious scene attracted the spectators, and quite a 
crowd gathered around. One of the nobles then took Ge- 
ronimo in his arms and carried him to the royal carriage. 
All mystery was now dispelled. Philip soon returned 
from the Netherlands, and made arrangements for a public 
interview with his brother and a recognition of his birth. 
The spot assigned was an extensive park near Yalladolid. 
Quixada, richly dressed, and mounted on a splendid charger, 
with Geronimo simply attired, on a plain steed by his side, 
and followed by numerous vassals, reached the place ap- 
pointed. Soon they heard the clattering of the royal cav- 
alcade. Quixada- pointed out the king to Geronimo, say- 
ing that his majesty had something of importance to com- 
municate to him. The boy, previously instructed, drew 
near to Philip, and, kneeling, begged to kiss his majesty's 
hand. The king fixed his eyes very intently upon the 
youth and said, abruptly, " Do you know who is your fa- 



334 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOKY. 

ther ?" Geronimo, disconcerted by the question, fixed his 
eyes upon the ground and made no reply. Philip then, 
alighting from his horse, embraced him cordially, saying, 
"Take courage, my child. You are descended from a 
great man. The Emperor Charles Y., now in glory, is 
your father as well as mine." 

He then presented the lad to the accompanying lords 
as his brother, and the son of their late sovereign. They 
thronged around him with expressions of homage, and. the 
scene was concluded by the king's buckling a sword upon 
his brother's side and throwing around his neck the collar 
of the Golden Fleece. The news of the strange event 
spread rapidly. As the king and his retinue, with the won- 
derfully handsome young prince, returned to Yalladolid, 
the whole city was in commotion, and the streets resounded 
with, cheers. An establishment suitable to his condition 
was immediately provided for the young prince. One of 
the most splendid mansions in Madrid was assigned to him, 
and he was furnished with a numerous band of retainers. 
His name was now changed to John of Austria. It would 
be difficult to find in the dreams of fiction a more wonder- 
ful and sudden change than this elevation of a peasant-boy 
•to the station of a prince of the blood. He was sent to the 
University of Alcala, where he had for his associates his 
nephew Don Carlos, whose sad fate we have already re- 
corded, and Alexander Farnese, son of Margaret of Parma, 
who was also a natural daughter of Charles Y. 

Don John seems to have been born for chivalric deeds. 
After three years of efficient study, he left the University 
in 1564. His heroic character won for him troops of 
friends. His fairy-like change of condition seems only to 
have inspired him with nobler aspirations. In 1658 he 



PHILIP II., III., A.ND IV. 335 

was placed in command of a fleet to punish the Barbary 
corsairs. He was so successful that on his return after an 
absence of eight months the nation greeted him with ap- 
plause. 

Don John was not long after sent by Philip to quell the 
insurrection of the Moriscoes, and to adopt measures which 
should prevent the possibility of any future uprising. Like 
sheep, the poor creatures, bound with cords, were driven 
from their beautiful cities in bands of thousands, and were 
scattered over the less populous districts of Spain. Their 
sufferings were dreadful. No suitable provision had been 
made for such a transportation. Many perished of hunger 
and fatigue. Not a few were kidnapped and sold as slaves. 
In all the arts of peace, in agriculture and the mechanic 
arts, the Moriscoes were superior to the Spanish Christians. 
The desolation which the ravages of war and exile spread 
over their sunny and beautiful country, contributed great- 
ly to that impoverishment into which Spain so rapidly sunk. 

Still there were many bands, often numbering thou- 
sands of warriors, who amidst the defiles of the mountains 
fought desperately, resolved to sell their lives as dearly as 
possible. In these encounters Don John, like a paladin of 
romance, was ever in front of the battle, seeming to court 
danger. Not unfrequently the Spanish chivalry were re- 
pelled with fearful loss. Upon one occasion Don John, en- 
raged at a reverse of his arms, exclaimed : 

"The infidels shall pay dear for the Christian blood 
they have shed this day. The next assault will place Ga- 
lena in our power. Every soul within its walls, man, wom- 
an, and child, shall be put to the sword. Not one shall be 
spared. ' The houses shall be razed to the ground, and the 
soil thev covered shall be sown with salt." 



836 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Such barbarity was not inconsistent with what is called 
chivalry. The event proved that this was not an empty 
threat. The city of Gralena, after as firm a resistance as 
history can record, was taken by storm. Don John sat 
upon his horse looking calmly upon the indiscriminate 
massacre, undeterred by shrieks, as men, women, and chil- 
dren were hewed down by his soldiers. At last he chival- 
rously consented that the remaining women, and the chil- 
dren under twelve years of age, shonld be spared, that they 
might be distributed among his brutal followers. The 
city, after having been despoiled of all its treasures, was ut- 
terly demolished. Such were the scenes which took place 
in Christian Spain only three hundred years ago. In view 
of them, statesmen and ecclesiastics thronged the churches 
to give God thanks for the signal victories which He had 
vouchsafed to ih-Q faithful. In the light of such events it 
must be admitted that the world has surely made progress. 

One is bewildered in reading of the lives and the death 
of many of these men, in seeing how conscientiously they en- 
acted the part of fiends. Quixada was slain in one of these 
battles of extermination against a people goaded, by the 
most outrageous injustice, to despair. His chronicler 
writes, " We may piously trust that the soul of Don Luis 
rose up to Heaven with the sweet incense which burned on 
the altars of St. Jerome. For he spent his life, and finally 
lost it, in fighting like a valiant soldier the battles of the 
faith." 

The king, who had urged the iniquitous war against the 
rights of humanity, wrote in reference to the death of Quix- 
ada, " We may be consoled by the reflection that, living 
and dying as he did, he can not fail to have exchanged this 
world for a better." And Quixada was a good knight. 



PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 337 

Though he could plunge his sword into the bosoms of 
maidens, and hew off the heads of babes at their mothers' 
breasts, he was, in accordance with the estimation of the 
times, the soul of honor, and his integrity was unsullied. 
Don John was a man of warm affections. After the death 
of Quixada, his foster-father, he wrote the following letter 
of condolence to Dona Magdalena, his foster-mother, whom 
he tenderly loved : 

"Luis died as became him, fighting for the glory and 
safety of his son, and covered with immortal honor. 
Whatever I am, whatever I shall be, I owe to him, by 
whom I was formed, or rather begotten, in a nobler birth. 
Dear, sorrowing, widowed mother, I only am left to you. 
And to you indeed do I of right belong, for whose sake 
Luis died, and you have been stricken with this woe. 
Moderate your grief with your wonted wisdom. Would 
that I were near you now, to dry your tears or mingle mine 
with them. Farewell, dearest and most honored mother. 
Pray to God to send back your son from these wars to 
your bosom." 

Don John distributed his army into detachments, send- 
ing them out to scour the country in all directions. The 
wretched creatures were pursued as the huntsman pursues 
wolves. At length they were so crushed that further re- 
sistance was impossible. They were all driven into the 
interior of Spain, and Christian emigrants flocked in to oc- 
cupy their abandoned houses and fields. It is impossible 
to state with accuracy the number of Moriscoes who sur- 
vived the exterminating war, and who were thus expelled 
from their homes. They must, however, have amounted 
to many thousands. They clung together, preserving their 
nationality, and so rapidly increased that ere long they be- 

15 



338 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

came again quite a power in Spain. And here we must 
for a time take leave of Don John, though the nodding of 
his plume was often afterwards conspicuous in many a 
desperate encounter. He soon again appears in the arena 
of Spanish affairs. 

Philip was a solitary man — like all his race, of melan- 
choly temperament. There were no sports in which he 
took any interest. He never conducted military expedi- 
tions in person, was reserved, and difiicult of access. But 
he was unwearied in the toil of the Cabinet, often labor- 
ing in solitude long into the hours of the night. The Es- 
curial was his favorite place of retreat. His household^ 
however, was formed on a very extravagant model, and 
was the most magnificent in Europe. Its host of officers, 
nearly all nobles or cavaliers of family ,, numbered fifteen 
hundred persons. The queen also had her establishment, 
on a similar scale. She had four physicians and twenty- 
six ladies in waiting. It is said that the king spent many 
lonely hours in meditation and prayer. His recluse habits 
did not please his subjects. One of the dignitaries of the 
Church in the following terms ventured to remonstrate 
with him : 

" Your Majesty's subjects everywhere complain of your 
manner of doing business, sitting all day long over your 
papers, from your desire, as they intimate, to seclude your- 
self from the world, and from a want of confidence in your 
ministers. Hence such interminable delays as fill the soul 
of every suitor with despair. . The Almighty did not send 
kings into the world to spend their days in reading or 
writing, or even in meditation and prayer, but to serve as 
public oracles, to which all may resort for answers. If any 
sovereign have received this grace, it is your Majesty." 



PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 839 



., a.a.x., 



The great lords had vast estates, with large revenues. 
They lived upon their estates in the summer, but in the 
winter generally repaired to Madrid, where they vied with 
the sovereign in the splendor of their equipages, the rich- 
ness of their liveries, and the throng of their retainers. 
The millions were impoverished to enrich the few. And 
yet, in God's system of compensation, it is not improbable 
that the poor Spanish peasant in his cottage was no more 
unhappy than the haughty lord in his castle. It is very 
certain that few families in Spain could have been more 
wretched than the royal family was, generation after gen- 
eration. 

The Castilian court, enslaved by etiquette, was univer- 
sally regarded as formal, sombre, and melancholy. The 
courtiers, proud and illiterate, furnished no topics for in- 
teresting conversation. Some of the nobles had domains 
whose vassal families numbered thirty thousand. Their 
halls were filled with retainers. A body-guard of two 
hundred armed men accompanied them wherever they 
went. Institutions, which time had formed, invested them 
with this unnatural and odious power of one man over 
multitudes of his brethren. 

The magnificent palace or monastery of the Escurial, 
which had required twenty - one years in building, and 
upon which had been lavished incredible wealth and la- 
bor, became, as we have mentioned, the favorite retreat of 
Philip. Here Philip brought his fourth bride, Anne of 
Austria. She was his niecCj and but twenty-one years of 
age. With a stately escort, she proceeded to Spain by 
way of the ISTetherlands. The match was popular with the 
Spaniards. They were very anxious for a male heir to 
the crown. The king had, since the death of Carlos, only 



840 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

daughters. The marriage was solemnized with great pomp 
in the Cathedral of Segovia on the 14th of November, 
1570. Anne was pretty, devotional, amiable, and fond of 
her needle. For ten years she enjoyed apparently a tran- 
quil life, until she died in 1580, in the thirty-first year of 
her age. Her children all died in infancy excepting her 
third son, who survived his mother, and lived to succeed 
his father upon the throne as Philip III. 

Spain was now rapidly on the decline. Civil war, relig- 
ious persecution, banishment, and emigration were rapid- 
ly depopulating the peninsula. Yast treeless wastes ap- 
peared, covered with briers, thorns, and rank grass, where 
flocks of sheep, under the care of shepherds, wandered 
slowly. Villages and towns fell into ruin. Agriculture 
was neglected. The poverty was so exhausting, and the 
difficulty of obtaining subsistence so great, that there were 
scarcely any marriages. The population rapidly diminish- 
ed from ten millions to six. Madrid declined from four 
hundred thousand inhabitants to one hundred and eighty 
thousand, and other cities in the same proportion. The 
emigration to America — to Mexico and Peru — was enor- 
mous. These emigrants were nearly all young men. Two 
hundred thousand persons, as priests, monks, and nuns, 
were devoted to a life of idleness and celibacy. God seem.- 
ed to frown upon the kingdom, and pestilence and earth- 
quakes added to its woes. The destruction of the immense 
Armada fitted out for the conquest of England was almost 
a death-blow to the Spanish monarchy. Philip, with a 
bankrupt treasury, his own mind enveloped in the deepest 
gloom, his body tortured by the combined attacks of gout, 
dropsy, fever, and the most loathsome ulcers, the conse- 
quence of his early debaucheries, where vermin swarmed 



PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 341 

whicli the physicians endeavored in vain to destroy, died 
miserably on the 13th of September, 1598. 

His son, Philip III., succeeded him in a weak and lan- 
guishing reign, during every year of which Spain was 
rapidly falling into decay. By his insane edicts all the 
Moriscoes were banished from the kingdom. Large num- 
bers took refuge m Africa. One hundred and fifty thou- 
sand crossed the Pyrenees, and found homes in France. 
Philip III. was an ultra religionist. His reign was called 
tne golden age of churchmen. He multiplied monasteries 
and ecclesiastics. The Cathedral of Seville alone had one 
hundred religious officials. It is however the uniform tes- 
timony that the peasants and tenantry of the ecclesiastical 
bodies were far more humanely treated than those who 
held land of the nobles. It was estimated that one-fifth of 
the land was owned by the Church. During the reign of 
Philip III. Spain was rapidly sinking into the abj^ss of 
impoverishment and disgrace. In 1621 Philip III. died, 
and Philip lY. ascended the throne. 

The reign of Philip lY. was marked only by increasing 
abuses, imbecility in the administration, and the progress 
of decay. There was no happiness in the palace or in the 
cottage. Both the Court and the Church frowned upon 
popular education, and upon that spirit of commercial or 
industrial enterprise which would elevate the masses, and 
thus instruct them in their rights. It was deemed dishon- 
orable and wicked to take interest for money. Thus treas- 
ure could only be hoarded up in plate, jewels, and coin. 
Men in high stations were often poorly clad and hungrj^ 

Philip lY. died in the sixtieth year of his age, leaving an 
only son, Charles, a sickly child of four years, under the regen- 
cy of his mother, a weak but verv ambitious woman. The 



842 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

queen took a Jesuit priest, Father ISTitard, as her adviser, 
and thus he became in reality the sovereign of Spain. The 
haughty airs which the upstart assumed offended the proud 
old Spanish grandees. Don John, whose lineage as son of 
the emperor, and whose chivalry and popular manners had 
rendered him a general favorite, marched upon the queen 
at the head of seven hundred cavaliers. The silly woman 
was in an agony of despair. She threw herself upon the 
floor, wrung her hands, and exclaimed frantically, 

" Alas ! alas ! what does it avail me to be queen an'd 
regent if I am deprived of this good man, who is my 
only consolation. The meanest individual is permitted to 
choose a confessor. I alone am deprived of my spiritual 
guide." 

. She was compelled to dismiss her favorite, and the un- 
happy man came near being torn to pieces by the populace 
of Madrid. The queen soon chose another favorite, Don 
Yalenzuela, a man of humble birth, but of fascinating man- 
ners. His vanity, his ostentation, his assumption of the 
airs of a successful lover, his motto, '' I alone have permis- 
sion," drew the most scandalous imputations upon the 
character of his royal mistress, and rendered him exceed- 
ingly obnoxious to the nobles. 

When Charles was fifteen years of age, he had, by the 
royal law, attained his majority. This weak, puny boy 
thus, by the law of hereditary descent, became the absolute 
monarch of a nation numbering from to eight twelve millions 
of inhabitants. His mother, with her tears and blandish- 
ments, still governed her feeble child, and conceited Yalen- 
zuela governed his doting mistress. It is difficult to record 
these facts without feeling the risings of indignation. And 
yet it has been well said that every nation has as good a 



PHILIP II., III., AND IV. 843 

government as it deserves. The people of Spain were so 
debased that they were satisfied with this. They were de- 
lighted to witness the agonies of heretics burned at the 
stake. They would have fought with desperation, nobles 
and peasants, to defend their king against any one who 
should attempt to introduce free institutions. Such a peo- 
ple can only be gradually lifted up from their ignorance 
and debasement. 

Some wise men gained access to Charles II., as the title 
of the frail child was, and induced him by night to es- 
cape from the palace, where, to use a popular but express- 
ive phrase, he had been " tied to the apron-striogs of his 
mother." There was general rejoicing as he assumed the 
reins of government and appointed Don John prime minis- 
ter. But the treasury was bankrupt. There was every- 
where misery, which no governmental reforms could imme- 
diately remove or alleviate. There were powerful influ- 
ences opposed to all reform. Don John experienced the in- 
evitable fate of all who attain power. Popular favor rapid- 
ly gave place to popular odium. 

To strengthen the rapidly- waning power of Spain, Don 
John negotiated the marriage of the young king Charles 
with Maria Louisa of France, daughter of the Duke of Or- 
leans, who was brother of Louis XIV. But the minister 
was assailed with incessant clamor. From every quarter 
voices of denunciation reached his ears. The chivalric 
prince could recklessly brave danger ; but contumely and 
abuse it was hard for him to bear. Sinking into a state of 
deepest melancholy, his health rapidly declined. A linger- 
ing and incurable disorder seized him. On the 17th of 
September, 1679, he died, in the fiftieth year of his age. 



344 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



CHAPTER XYII. 

THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 

(From 1679 A.D. to 1788 a.d.) 

Claimants for the Crown of Spain. — War of the Succession. — Vicissitudes of 
Battle. — Recognition of Philip V.— Death of Maria Louisa. — Elizabeth 
Farnese. — Abdication of Philip V. — Accession of Louis. — ^His Bride. — Her 
Waywardness. — Death of Philip V. — Accession of Ferdinand VI. — Accession 
of Charles III. — Power of the Jesuits. — Doom of Olivede. — Siege of Gibraltar. 

AFTER the death of Don John, the Spanish monarchy- 
was left in a state of utter demoralization. The weak 
king was governed by a cabal of intriguers, whose only ob- 
ject seemed to be their own. gratification and aggrandize- 
ment. The king himself, a prey to hypocondria bordering 
upon insanity, was distracted by the quarrels between his 
wife and his mother. In 1690 the queen died, and Charles 
married Eleanora, an Austrian princess. The French mon- 
arch, with impunity, wrested from Spain several provinces. 
The king become a hopeless invalid. After four years of 
languor and suffering, he passed from a joyless life into the 
tomb, leaving no heirs. His whole reign had been but a 
series of mortifications and calamities. His haughty wife 
despised her imbecile husband, and cruelly domineered over 
him. Charles II. was the sport of the factions which agi- 
tated his court. His dying hours were additionally embit- 
tered by the prospect of the ruin which was coming upon 
his country. The succession to the throne would be dis- 
puted. 

There were several claimants ready immediately to put 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 34:5 

forth their pretensions upon the death of the king. Louis 
XI Y. of France founded a claim for his grandson the Duke 
of AnjoLi from the fact that the dauphin had married the 
Spanish infanta, Maria Theresa, eldest daughter of Philip 
IV. But the princess upon her marriage had solemnly re- 
nounced, in behalf of herself and her heirs, all claims to the 
succession. 

The Emperor Leopold of Germany founded his claims, 
first, upon his descent from Philip and Joanna of Castile, 
and, secondly, on the rights of his mother, Mary Ann, daugh- 
ter of Philip III. To obviate the jealousy of the European 
powers, in view of the union of the Spanish monarchy to 
the already immense possessions of Austria, the emperor 
and his eldest son Joseph relinquished their claims in favor 
of the second son, the Archduke Charles. 

A Bavarian prince claimed the crown upon the ground 
that his mother was the only daughter of the Spanish infan- 
ta Margaret b}^ the Emperor Leopold. But in Margaret*s 
case, at the time of her marriage, a solemn renijinciation was 
extorted of all riohts to the succession. 

Philip, Duke of Orleans, also demanded the throne be- 
cause his mother Anne, wife of Louis XIIL, was a Spanish 
infanta. Victor Asmadeus, Duke of Savoy, put in a claim 
in virtue of his descent from Catharine, second daughter of 
Philip II. These inferior claimants were, however, soon 
lost in the superior power of the French and Austrian con- 
testants. Louis XIV. and the Emperor Leopold were an- 
tagonists who could trample the minor dukes and princes 
of Europe beneath their feet. 

The wretched vacillating king, harassed by the claims 
of these rival parties, a little while before his death sent an 
embassage to the Pope for counsel. 

15* 



S4:6 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

"Having no children," the king observed, " and being 
obliged to appoint an heir to the Spanish crown from a 
foreign family, we find such great obscurity in the law of 
succession that we are unable to form a settled determina- 
tion." 

The Pope had already been engaged by Louis XIY. to 
act as his agent. After affecting to take forty days for 
prayerful deliberation, he sent a reply, in which he said, 
" The French claimants are the rightful heirs to the crown, 
and no member of the Austrian family has the smallest 
legitimate pretensioUo" 

Charles II. hated the French. Louis XIY. had robbed 
him of territory, and treated him with contempt. Enfee- 
bled in body and mind, and on a bed of suffering, his ec- 
clesiastics, obedient to the will of the Holy Father, de- 
nounced upon him the terrors of eternal damnation if he 
did not bequeath the crown to the Bourbons of France. 
Thus appalled, the half-delirious king signed the decree 
which was awaiting his signature. Then, bursting into 
tears, he sank back upon his pillow, exclaiming, "I am al- 
ready nothing." Soon after this he died, in the year 1700, 
in the fortieth year of his age. 

Louis XIY. was prepared for energetic action. He had 
gathered an army of one hundred thousand men in his 
fortresses near the Spanish frontier, and had filled the ad- 
jacent harbors with ships of war. Immediately upon the 
death of Charles II. the Bourbon prince, with the title of 
Philip Y., was proclaimed king, and took possession of the 
throne. Thus commenced the reign of the Bourbon dy- 
nasty over the Spanish peninsula. The other powers of 
Europe were much alarmed. The transference of the 
crown of Spain to the grandson of Louis XIY. virtually 



THE SPANISH BOUKBONS. 347 

united the two kingdoms of France and Spain. As the 
King of France took leave of the young King of Spain, 
he said to him, " The two nations should consider them- 
selves but one. Henceforward there will be no Pyrenees." 
This boy-king, who had just entered his seventeenth year, 
was greeted apparently with the unanimous acclamations 
of the Spanish people. He soon married Maria Louisa of 
Savoy. She was an exceedingly beautiful child, just enter- 
ing her fourteenth year. From the smallness of her stat- 
ure, she appeared even more youthful than she was ; but 
in spirit and understanding she was quite mature. To the 
most captivating manners and graceful deportment she 
added powers of fascination which gave her almost the en- 
tire control over her indolent, timid, indecisive husband. 

Louis XIY. feared that she might exert an influence 
over her enamored husband unfriendly to France, and in 
favor of Turin. Orders were therefore issued that none of 
her Piedmontese attendants should accompany her beyond 
the Spanish frontier. The poor child, thus separated from 
her friends, wept bitterly. Her excessive grief only in- 
creased the love and sympathy of her doting and pliant 
husband. Louis XIY. wrote to Philip the following cruel 
advice : 

" The queen is the first of your subjects. In this quality, 
as well as in that of your wife, she is bound to obey jou. 
You should love her. But you will never love her as jou 
ought if her tears have power to extort from you indul- 
gences derogatory to your glory. Be firm, then, at first. 
I well know that your first refusals will grieve you. But 
fear not to give a slight uneasiness to spare real chagrin in 
future. Eestrain her at first. She will be obliged, to you 
in the end." 



348 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

But the charms and the fascinations of the young bride 
were far more potent than the advice of the old king. It 
soon, was manifest that no expedient could prevent her 
from obtaining the entire ascendency over the mind of 
Philip. The next and more successful effort was made by 
the French party to guide, through her agency, the meas- 
ures of the king. 

The spirited little child, Maria Louisa, mortified by her 
husband's want of energy, wrote to Lonis XIY., " I humbly 
request your Majesty to employ all the authority which 
you have over the king, your grandson, that he may say, 
with a firm tone, / will or / will not. He would be a per- 
fect prince if he could attain this." 

Leopold of Germany was enraged by the successful 
usurpation which Louis XIY. had achieved. He proclaim- 
ed his son, the Austrian prince, King of Spain, with the ti- 
tle of Charles III. England allied herself with Austria. 
Other powers sustained the claims of France. Thus com- 
menced the war of the Spanish succession, which for many 
years deluged Europe in blood. A British fleet conveyed 
Charles III. to Lisbon. It was during one of the campaigns 
of this war that the British, in 1704, took the rock of Gi- 
braltar which they have held, to the extreme chagrin of the 
Spaniards, to the present day. The Spanish people, with 
almost entire unanimity, defended the cause of Philip. 

We have not space for the details of this sanguinary 
war. Early in the summer of 1710, Charles III., with a 
strong force of English and Germans, landed at Barcelona. 
The army of invasion met the Spaniards under Philip near 
Saragossa, and utterly routed them. The English general. 
Stanhope, and the German general, Staremberg, led the 
conquerirtg troops. Here for the first time the two rival 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 349 

claimants for the throne met each other in battle. Both 
Charles III. and Philip Y. were but puppets in the hands 
of their generals. After another short and bloody conflict, 
the English and German troops entered Madrid. Charles 
rode through the deserted streets, encountering only sullen 
silence. There were no voices to greet him. Nobles, 
clergy, populace, all alike stood aloof. Charles exclaimed 
in his chagrin, " Madrid is a desert." 

Philip established his court at Yalladolid, about one 
hundred and fifty miles north-east from Madrid. The 
peasants rose in great numbers and cut off Charles's com- 
munications with his fleet at Barcelona. Three thousand 
steel-clad cavaliers from France swept down through the 
defiles of the Pyrenees to the aid of Philip. The situation 
of Charles was desperate. He was in an enemy's country. 
Famine and sickness wasted away his troops. Not a soldier 
could leave his camp without danger of assassination. He 
had taken Madrid, and Madrid was his prison. 

Philip advanced in great strength upon his capital. The 
English and Austrians retreated. As their last battalions 
left the streets, the ringing of bells, explosions of cannon, 
and shouts of the people announced the triumphant return 
of Philip. Charles, protected by a guard of two thousand 
cavaliers, put spurs to his horse and galloped over the 
mountains to Barcelona. The army, emaciate and deject- 
ed, cautiously followed, over wretched roads, through rug- 
ged mountain-passes, where the people were all hostile, and 
it was almost impossible to obtain any provisions. The 
cold blasts of November pierced the clothing of the shiver- 
ing troops. Philip pursued. The sufferings of the retreat 
can not be described. Cold, hunger, mud, drenching, freez- 
ing storms, cruel battles, wounds, groans, death, all com- 



350 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

bined in the creation of scenes of misery whicli it is dread- 
ful to contemplate. With but a feeble remnant of seven 
thousand men, having abandoned all his artillery and most 
of his baggage, General Staremberg at length reached Bar- 
celona, behind whose fortified walls, protected by the fleet 
of England, his wearied troops found repose. The English 
and Grerman army had left Barcelona but a few months 
before, numbering thirty thousand combatants. 

"When the war commenced Charles was a genteel young 
man of eighteen. He was then engaged to be married to 
the daughter of the King of Portugal. But the young 
lady died just before the day appointed for their espousals. 
Ten years had since passed away. Charles was now 
twenty-eight years of age, a war-worn soldier. Protected 
by a feeble garrison, he was closely besieged in the city of 
Barcelona. The English fleet had retired, and twenty- 
eight French ships blockaded the harbor. D^ys and weeks 
of the vigorous siege passed on. Anxiously, from the 
crumbling ramparts, the beleaguered troops gazed into the 
distant horizon, hoping to see the sails of an English fleet 
coming to their rescue. The garrison was reduced to two 
thousand. At length, on the 3d of May, 1706, their eyes 
were gladdened by the sight of fifty sail of the line ap- 
proaching with a large number of land troops. The force, 
was so great that the siege was immediately abandoned. 
Soon after this there was an armistice between France and 
England, and the English troops withdrew from Spain. 
By the death of Joseph, Charles became Emperor of Grer- 
many. Europe generally recognized Philip Y. as king of 
Spain. Gradually the war of the succession ceased, having 
continued nearly eleven years. 

The queen, Maria Louisa, died, and the king took another 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 351 

bride, Elizabeth Farnese, of Parma. This renowned wom- 
an exerted a still more controlling influence over her dot- 
ing husband than the young and beautiful princess who 
had sunk into the tomb. She was highly educated, of 
pleasing countenance and graceful figure, and possessed 
fascinating powers of conversation. For years she govern- 
ed her husband with wonderful adroitness. She was inde- 
fatigable in her devotion to him, caressing and flattering 
him. She seemed ever to approve of his plans, never 
speaking a word in contradiction, and yet she invariably 
led him to adopt her views as if they were his own. She 
encouraged him in his aversion to society, and by her 
gayety and vivacity so ministered to his melancholy humor 
as to render herself indispensable to his comfort. Thus 
she became the real sovereign of Spain. Years rolled on 
of intrigues and machinations, of crimes and sorrows, which 
at that time embittered many hearts and darkened the lot 
of humanity. The reader may be interested in taking a 
look into the palace to witness the daily routine of the life 
of a king and queen of Spain. We have a very graphic 
description of regal etiquette from the pen of St. Simon, 
an inmate of the household. 

At nine o'clock in the morning the first woman of the 
bed-chamber drew aside the curtains of the royal couch. 
A French valet followed with a restorative cordial, com- 
posed of milk, wine, yolks of eggs, sugar, cinnamon, and 
cloves. Their majesties then said their morning prayers. 
The king's prime minister, or secretary of state, then came 
in for the transaction of business, the king and queen being 
both still in bed. The lady of the bed-chamber brought 
the queen her tapestry. As she worked upon it, she very 
freely gave her opinion upon the questions which were 



352 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



brought forward. As the minister retired, an attendant 
brought the king his dressing-gown and slippers. His 
majesty then passed into his dressing-room, where three 
French valets and two Spanish noblemen aided him in ad- 
justing his toilette. He then passed a quarter of an hour 
alone in devotion with his confessor. 

As the king retired to his dressing-room the queen rose 
from her bed, and enjoyed about five minutes alone with 
the lady of her bed-chamber. These were almost the only 
minutes in the four-and-twenty hours which she could call 
her own. The queen then repaired to her toilette, " which 
was attended," writes St. Simon, " by the king, accompanied 
by two or three principal ofiicers of his household, the chil- 
dren, and their governors." 

The queen having finished her toilette, the royal couple 
repaired to the drawing-room. Here they received foreign 
ministers and other persons of distinction who sought a 
private audience. It was observed that Philip never gave 
any answer to any business of importance without consult- 
ing ^the queen. After the audience the king and queen 
both attended mass. They then at twelve o'clock dined. 
ISTone were admitted to the table but those who had been 
present at her majesty's toilette. The dinner, we are in- 
formed, was always essentially the same, soup, fowls, boiled 
pigeons, and roast meat. There was neither fruit, salad, or 
cheese, and rarely any pastry. They both drank cham- 
pagne. After dinner they said their prayers, and then the 
king and queen entered a carriage together for what was 
termed the chase, or the diversion of shooting. The royal 
couple took their station in an avenue of the park. The 
peasants, forming a circle, drove the game before them. 
They shot promiscuously at stags, boars, foxes, hares, as 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 353 

tbej were driven by. After this dull and melancholy pas- 
time, they returned to the palace and partook of a colla- 
tion of pastry, fruit, and wine. The children were then 
admitted for a quarter of an hour to the presence of their 
regal parents. After this the king held a short interview 
with his minister. 

" This was the time," writes St. Simon, " in which the 
queen confessed once a week. She retired with the con- 
fessor into a cabinet adjoining; and if the king thought 
the" confession too long, he would open the door and call 
her. The minister entering, they again said their prayers 
or read some book of devotion till supper. After supper, 
conversation or prayers tete-d-tete till they retired to rest." 

It is not strange that a life so monotonous and dreary 
should have plunged the king, constitutionally dejected, into 
the depths of melancholy. At length Philip decided to ab- 
dicate the crown in favor of his son Louis. In anticipation 
of this event, he had reared the magnificent palace of St. 
Ildefonso. It was delightfully situated in a luxuriant val- 
ley among the mountains, where the heat of central Spain 
was mitigated by cool fereezes from the north. The secret 
of the intended abdication was revealed to no one but the 
queen. On the 10th of January, 1724, Philip Y., in the fol- 
lowing terms, announced his design to the Council of Cas- 
tile: 

" Having reflected, with due consideration, upon the 
miseries of life, and on the infirmities, woes, and troubles 
with which God has visited me during the twenty-three 
years of my reign, seeing also that my son, Don Louis, is of 
competent age, married, and endowed with discretion, judg- 
ment, and talents sufficient for governing this monarchy 
justly and wisely, I have determined to retire wholly from 



854 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

the government, renouncing all my states, kingdoms, and 
lordships in favor of the said Don Louis, in order to lead at 
St. Ildefonso a private life with the queen, that, freed from 
all other cares, I may serve Grod, meditate on a future life, 
and devote myself to the important work of my salvation." 

His son, in accepting the crown, said, " God grant that, 
after treading awhile in your steps, I may have the same 
opinion of the vanity of the greatness of this world ; and 
that, being sensibly affected with its nothingness, I may 
likewise imitate you in your retreat, and prefer great and 
solid happiness to transitory and perishing honors." 

Philip, unlike Charles Y., had no idea of retiring to a 
cloistered life. His palace of St. Ildefonso was one of al- 
most unsurpassed magnificence. He reserved to himself a 
yearly pension of six hundred thousand dollars, to be con- 
tinued to the queen in case of his death. He also settled 
upon each of his sons an annuity of one hundred thousand 
dollars, and upon each of his daughters fifty thousand. 

Superstition, indolence, and the love of ease were proba- 
bly the inspiring motive to this act. It was said also that he 
was influenced by the hope of succeeding to the throne of 
France. He judged that the opposition of the other pow- 
ers to his assumption of the French crown would be obvi- 
ated by his abdication of the throne of Spain. This might 
have induced the ambitious queen to approve of the meas- 
ure. 

Louis, the eldest son of Philip by the child-mother, the 
beautiful little Maria Louisa, was but in the seventeenth 
year of his age, when he was thus raised to the throne. 
As he was a Spaniard by birth, he was welcomed with 
universal acclaim. He was a very handsome young man, 
and so cordial in his manners that he won the epithet 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 355 

of the well-beloved. Still he was but a boy, and for a 
time amused himself with many boyish freaks. In dis- 
guise he would stroll through the streets of Madrid at mid- 
night. He would stealthily strip the royal gardens of 
the choicest fruit, and amuse himself with the vexation of 
the gardeners. He had married Elizabeth, the third 
daughter of the Kegent-duke of Orleans, a child twelve 
years of age. Such were the sovereigns of Spain invested 
with absolute power. It does indeed seem strange that a 
European nation numbering millions, could, but about one 
century ago, tolerate such trifling as to accept these chil- 
dren as rulers governing a kingdom with unlimited sway. 

Poor little Elizabeth had been brought up in the palace 
of the Duke of Orleans, in a school of utter profligacy. 
She was beautiful, accomplished, and united elegance of 
manners with vivacity of spirit. But her father was one 
of the most profligate of men. Her two elder sisters were 
renowned for their fashionable dissipations. She was a 
spoiled child, full of wayward and capricious fancies. She 
bade defiance to all those stately forms of etiquette which 
were deemed of such vital importance in the Spanish 
court. Often she would have what were called the sidks^ 
shutting herself up in her apartment and treating her hus- 
band and his mother with much disdain. The young king, 
by the advice of his father, resorted to the stringent meas- 
ure of endeavoring to subdue her spirit by a public dis- 
grace. He accordingly one- night, when she was absent, in 
her carriage, from the palace Bueno Eetiro, which was their 
residence, issued the following order to the officer in 
charge : 

" The disorderly conduct of the queen, being highly 
prejudicial to her health, and no less degrading to her roy- 



356 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

al dignity, I have endeavored to prevent it by remon- 
strances; and in my anxiety for her amendment I even 
prevailed on my pious father to admonish her with great 
severity. But, perceiving no change, I am resolved that 
she shall not sleep this night at the palace in the city. 
And I hereby require you, and the persons whom I have 
selected for the purpose, to employ every requisite care for 
her accommodation and precious health." 

As Elizabeth returned at a late hour in the night, she 
was met at the gate of the palace by a guard who refused 
her admittance, and directed her to retire immediately to 
the old palace in the city. The rage of the queen was as 
violent as it was impotent. She was by force conveyed to 
the apartments provided for her, where she was held in 
close confinement for six days. A circular letter to all the 
foreign ministers announced her arrest. Assuming that at 
the close of the six days her spirit was somewhat sub- 
dued by confinement and disgrace, the French ambassador, 
a man venerable in years and character, was sent to con- 
verse with her. In the interview she frankly acknowl- 
edged her frivolity, coquetry, and imprudence, but solemn- 
ly denied any criminality. She entreated forgiveness, and 
promised amendment. 

The young king, whose aversion to her was invincible, 
made an outward show of reconciliation. They met again 
publicly as if amicable relations were restored. The queen 
kissed the hand of her husband, and he kissed her cheek. 
But both kisses were alike cold. They occupied different 
apartments, and lived no longer as husband and wife. 
Philip and his wife, Elizabeth Farnese, who still really held 
all the power in their hands at their retreat at St. Ildefon- 
so, declared the young queen to be insane, and commenced 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 357 

measures to obtain a divorce. While the domestic affairs 
of the royal family were thus troubled, the young king 
was seized with the small-pox, which in twelve days hur- 
ried him to the grave, in the eighteenth year of his age, and 
the eighth month of his reign. As soon as Louis was pro- 
nounced to be in danger, Philip, already satiated with his 
nominal retirement at St. Ildefonso, determined to resume 
the crown. He drew np a suitable document to secure that 
end, and obtained the signature of his son to it the evening 
before his death, though he was then in a state of delirium. 

To this strange movement it seems that the imbecile 
monarch was impelled by his far more capable and ex- 
tremely ambitious wife. The hope of obtaining the French 
crown was fading, and Elizabeth Farnese was anxious to 
reclaim the crown of Spain. Though there was considera- 
ble opposition on the part of the Spanish people to this 
tossing about of the crown, the energetic queen, operating 
through the Pope, was triumphantly successful. 

Th6 young queen, who by the death of Louis was saved 
from the humiliation of a divorce, caught the infection of 
which her husband died. The strength of her constitution 
saved her life. She received the accustomed appointments 
of a widowed queen. Disgusted with the restraints of 
Spanish etiquette, she ere long returned to Paris and took 
up her residence in the palace of the Luxembourg. Here 
she maintained a splendid establishment, and gave full 
swing to her taste for gallantries. A life of pleasure and 
of- sin is always short, and always terminates in gloom 
and despair. The court at Madrid withheld her pension. 
Youth fled, beauty waned, poverty pressed, sickness in- 
vaded her frame, gloom darkened her spirits. She retired 
to the Convent of the Carmelites, and in the cloister en- 



358 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

deavored to make amends, by penance and prayer, for a 
life of licentious amour. Shrouded in melancholy, with re- 
morse for the past preying upon her, she died sadly, of 
dropsy, in the year 1742. 

Philip Y., resuiming the crown, returned to the Escuri- 
al to receive the homage of his court. A series of intrigues 
ensued in reference to marriages and alliances, which, though 
no longer of any interest, then shook all the thrones of Eu- 
rope. The people were nothing but hewers of wood and 
drawers of water. Their interests seem never to have 
been thought o£ The world moved for kings and nobles 
alone. Elizabeth Farnese became a power in Europe. 
The king was a confirmed hypochondriac, and at times 
manifestly insane. Often he spent whole days in bed, and 
gave audiences at midnight. He often declared his inten- 
tion to abdicate. The queen watched over and guarded 
him as a physician watches over an insane patient. The 
guards were strictly enjoined not to permit him to leave 
the palace. At one time he succeeded in secretly writing 
his abdication, and in sending his favorite valet with it to 
the Council of Castile. But the vigilant queen detected the 
movement. The dangerous paper was recovered and de- 
stroyed. An oath was extorted from the king that he 
would not renew his clandestine attempt to abdicate. The 
queen conducted all operations ■ in his name, signing de- 
crees with a stamp which had been prepared with his 
signature^ Philip was peculiarly jealous of his authority, 
and it required consummate adroitness on the part of his 
wife to disguise her dictatorship, and to make her decisions 
appear like the suggestions of his own mind. 

The bodily and mental maladies of the king gradually 
increased. He became very moody. Frequently he would 



THE SPANISH BOUEBONS. 859 

neither transact any business himself nor allow it to be 
transacted by others. Occasionally he would revive and 
push matters with the utmost vigor. But generally he 
draofsed on a miserable existence in a state of extreme de- 
jection, passing most of his time in bed*. No one could 
fail to be struck with the deplorable contrast which his ex- 
istence presented between human wretchedness and regal 
splendor. He died suddenly, in a fit of apoplexy, in July, 
1746. He left several children, all of whom, aided by the 
intrigues of his wife, attained eminent positions of wealth 
and power. His second son, Ferdinand, succeeded his fa- 
ther. The queen had an annual income of seventy thou- 
sand dollars settled upon her, with the palace of St. Hde- 
fonso. This ambitious woman survived her husband, 
many years, retaining to the last her energy and vivacity. 

Ferdinand YL, the only surviving son of Philip and 
Maria Louisa of Savoy, was thirty-four years of age upon 
his accession to the throne. His stepmother, Elizabeth 
Farnese, had never treated him kindly. All her energies 
were devoted to .the promotion of the interests of her 
own children. He however generously forgave his mother 
all her injustice, and manifested no spirit of revenge. He 
was short in stature, of unprepossessing personal appear- 
ance, moderate in his abilities, and subject to violent fits of 
passion. He was economical, truthful, and anxious to pro- 
mote peace at home and abroad. Unfortunately he inher- 
ited the melancholy temperament of his father, and that 
hypocondriac malady which plunged him almost into in- 
sanity upon the slightest, sickness or anxiety. Averse to 
business, incapable of application, he left the burden of af- 
fairs with his ministers, and devoted himself to the chase 
and other pursuits of pleasure. Apparently he was con- 



360 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

scious of his utter want of administrative ability. When 
some one complimented him upon his skill in shooting, he 
replied, "It would be extraordinary if I could not do one 
thing well." 

The wife of Ferdinand YI., Maria Magdalena Theresa 
Barbara, was the daughter of John Y., King of Portugal, 
and was two years older than her husband. She was un- 
wieldy in figure and plain in features, but so amiable, 
sprightly, and agreeable in address that she won the warm 
affection of Ferdinand. She was however subject to occa- 
sional seasons of extreme dejection, when her mind brooded 
upon the terrors of sudden death or of lasting poverty. 
She had no children, and had sorrowfully relinquished all 
hope of offspring. 

The shrewd men who gathered the reins of government 
in their hands, one of whom was a successful opera singer, 
paid no attention to the wants of the people, but were all 
engrossed by the intrigues and plans of alliance which then 
agitated the courts of Europe, engaged as they were in the 
innumerable and complicated wars to which dynastic ambi- 
tion gave birth. England and France, ever two rival pow- 
ers, each had their agents in Madrid, endeavoring, by bribes 
and b}'' threats, to obtain the alliance of Spain. England 
even proposed, as the price of an alliance, to surrender Gi- 
braltar to Spain. Ten or twelve inglorious and uneventful 
years thus passed away, when Barbara, who had long been 
in declining health, died, in August, 1758. 

The blow was fatal to the semi-insane king. He was 
plunged into the deepest state of melancholy. Immuring 
himself in one of his palaces, he assumed obdurate silence, 
refusing to attend to any business, and at times even to par- 
take of any food. For seven days he kept his bed, refusing 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 361 

to see any persons but his two physicians. Then again for 
days and nights he would not enter his bed. Apparently 
he did not sleep at all, but would walk about his room with 
no other covering but his shirt, occasionally sitting down for 
half an hour in his chair. Death came to the relief of the 
unhappy man on the 10th August, 1759, in the forty -sev- 
enth year of his age, and the fourteenth of his reign. 

By the death of Ferdinand VI. without issue, the crown 
devolved upon his half-brother, the son of Elizabeth Far- 
nese, then King of Naples. He assumed the title of 
Charles III. His mother, then living, was appointed to 
the regency until he could arrive in Spain. The king's 
first-born son was idiotic. In arranging for the succession, 
the king appointed his second son, Charles, heir to the Span- 
ish crown, and his third sou, Ferdinand, he appointed King 
of Naples and Sicily. 

The king, with all the royal family excepting Ferdinand, 
was conveyed in a fleet of sixteen ships of the line to Spain. 
It is said that the Neapolitan people gathered around him 
upon his embarkation with tears. A four day's voyage 
conveyed the royal family to Barcelona. Charles III. was 
cordially received in Spain, where he was born. His moth- 
er he had not seen for twenty years. In his little realm of 
Naples Charles had devoted much attention to the subjects 
of finance, commerce, and agriculture. The new king is 
represented as a man of respectable abilities, good memo- 
ry, and of uncommon command of himself Being of the 
House of Bourbon, he ever retained a strong affection for 
France, and favored the French rather than the English al- 
liance. 

The Jesuits had now attained so much wealth and pow- 
er that they became rivals of the king and the court. It 

16 



362 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

was an age of ignorance. The priests were at every dying 
bed. Many a remorseful sinner, hoping to make some 
amends for his crimes, bequeathed large sums, if not all his 
possessions, to the Church. Thus the Jesuits, bound togeth- 
er by the most rigorous rules which fanaticism could frame, 
became the most powerful society ever known upon earth. 
Adopting the maxim that "the end sanctifies the means," 
there was no crime of falsehood, treachery, murder, which 
in their eyes did not become a virtue, if its perpetration 
aided in promoting the interests of what they called the 
Church. Conscious of their power, they caused kings and 
courts to tremble before their arrogance. It was long be- 
fore any statesman was found bold enough to strike at this 
formidable spiritual Colossus. 

In 1757, in consequence of some bold intrigues in which 
the Jesuits were engaged in Portugal, and their implication 
in a memorable attempt to assassinate the king, the Portu- 
guese court, roused to desperate action, issued a decree con- 
fiscating the property of the Jesuits and banishing them 
from the kingdom. These bold measures against the for- 
midable organization in some degree dissipated the terror 
which their name and power had inspired. The literati 
of France opened upon them a merciless warfare, with as- 
saults of ridicule and contempt so fierce as to create against 
them a general feeling of aversion. The result was that, 
in 1764, they were expelled from France. The decree de- 
clared them to be a political society dangerous to religion 
and devoted to self-aggrandizement. There was not much 
sense of right in those days. The end sanctifie'd the means. 
Their assailants did not hesitate to resort to any measures 
whatever which would excite odium against the Jesuits. 
Forged letters were circulated in the names of the chiefs. 



THE SPANISH BOUEBONS. 36o 

False charges of the most horrible nature were propagated 
against them. 

The Jesuits, or Society of Jesus, had originated under 
Ignatius Loyola in Spain. There can be no question that 
Loyola was as sincere and conscientious as was ever fanatic 
in this world. The Duke de Choiseul, who had contributed 
much to the expulsion of the Jesuits from France, now con- 
secrated all his energies to secure their expulsion from 
Spain. . Rumors were circulated, no one can tell whether 
true or false, of their conspiracies against the Spanish Gov- 
ernment. A forged letter was presented from the head of 
the order at Rome, calling upon the leaders in Spain to pro- 
mote an insurrection. 

It so happened that at this time, much to the chagrin of 
Charles IIL, the English party in Madrid gained the ascend- 
ency. The populace of Madrid, in wild insurrection, swept 
the streets, shouting " England forever ;" " Down with the 
French." They demanded the dismissal of the king's favor- 
ite minister Squilaci. A conflict was the result. For forty- 
eight hours Madrid was in the hands of the mob. Many 
of the king's guard were killed. Their bodies, shockingly 
man";led, were drao-o-ed through the streets, and were burn-, 
ed upon bonfires. Charles was compelled to yield to the 
clamors of the mob, and was consequently almost frantic 
with mortification and rage. At the same time there were 
similar insurrections in other parts of the kingdom. 

The skill with which these insurrections were managed 
clearly indicated that they originated in and were control- 
led by some secret intelligence far superior to any thing 
which was to be found in the minds of the besotted populace. 
The king, brooding over his humiliation, was led to suspect 
the Jesuits. In his sullen humor he retired to Avanjuer, 



BQ4: EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

and for eiglix months refused to take up his residence again 
at Madrid. The French minister was unwearied in his en- 
deavors to induce the king to imitate the example of 
France. Thus influenced, Charles III. became the impla- 
cable foe of the Jesuits. But their power was so great, from 
their numbers, their talents, and their various opportunities 
of controlling the public mind, that it was necessary for the 
king to move with the utmost caution. 

Charles sent circulars to the governors of each province, 
with secret instructions that they were to open them only 
at a particular hour and in a particular place. At the ap- 
pointed moment, at midnight on the 81st of March, 1767, 
the colleges of the Jesuits in all parts of Spain were sur- 
rounded with troops, .and all their inmates arrested. They 
were then led, carefully guarded, to carriages previously 
collected for their transportation, and were thus conveyed 
to different places on the coast, where frigates were in wait- 
ing, which bore them to Civita Yecchia, in Italy. So per- 
fect were the precautions and so prompt the execution, 
that nothing was known of their arrest by the inhabitants 
of the places of their residence until the next morning. 

In this" movement, as everywhere in the events of this 
sad world, we see the suffering caused by the cruelty of 
man. The Pope forbade their landing in his dominions, 
saying that his treasury was too poor to maintain them. 
The weather was hot ; they were crowded like convicts in 
the transports ; many perished. For three months they 
were beating about in the Mediterranean. At last they 
were landed upon the island of Corsica, where they were 
crowded into warehouses, without beds or any of the nec- 
essaries of life. The Pope finally permitted them to be 
landed in Italy, where he settled upon them a maintenance 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 865 

which Spain promised to pay, amounting to one shilling a 
day for each. However dangerous may have been the 
character of this society, dreadful is that despotism which 
enabled a weak, passionate man to arrest, simply at his 
own good pleasure, a large religious order, without trial, 
without accusation even, and to banish them forever from 
their native land, under circumstances of cruelty more to 
be dreaded than death. Under this despotic proscription, 
the Jesuits were forbidden to make any attempt whatever 
in justification of their conduct. In the edict for their ex- 
pulsion every inhabitant of Spain was prohibited from 
publishing any thing for or against them ; and it was de- 
clared that if a single Jesuit should send forth the slightest 
apology in their favor, the pensions of all should instantly 
cease. 

In a letter to the Pope the king announced that the 
tranquillity of his states and the honor of his crown ren- 
dered it necessary for him to expel the Jesuits, but that he 
would assume the expense of their maintenance. The 
Pope very reluctantly acquiesced in the expulsion of such 
zealous partisans of the Holy See. In the correspondence 
which ensued, both the pontiff and the king, in words at 
least, breathed the spirit of humanity and of piety. The 
Pope, after warmly eulogizing the order, implored the king, 
" as he loved his wife then in heaven, who on earth mani- 
fested so much attachment to the Society of Jesus ; as he 
loved the Church, the spouse of Christ ; as he regarded the 
wishes of the Pope himself; as he loved the sweet name of 
Jesus, which was the glorious device of the sons of Saint 
Ignatius, that he would revoke or suspend the execution 
of his order." But the king, in a reply full of expressions 
of respect and affection, remained firm in his resolve. 



366 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The Jesuits, thougb. persecuted, still had power. The 
king had daily proofs of the success of their secret in- 
trigues. The year after their expulsion the king showed 
himself upon the balcony of the palace to the people. To 
the surprise and confusion of the whole court, the immense 
multitude simultaneously, and as with one voice, demand- 
ed the return of the Jesuits. A new Pope was ere long 
elected, Clement XIY. Spain exerted so powerful an in- 
fluence in his elevation that, in gratitude, he yielded to the 
solicitations of Charles III., accompanied by those of other 
Catholic courts, and abolished the Ord^r of Jesus in 1798. 
The Inquisition had by this time lost somewhat of its san- 
guinary power. And yet the intolerance which remained 
may be inferred from the following incident: 

A gentleman by the name of Don Olavide, a man of 
wealth, who stood high in court favor, and who was distin- 
guished for his literary acquirements, established a journal 
in Madrid which attracted considerable attention. Exten- 
sive travel had enlarged his mind, so that he regarded with 
strong disapproval the fanaticism of the Papal Church. 
He even ventured to ridicule the idleness and licenti^ous- 
ness of the monks, and to point out the varied mischiefs 
which arose from the celibacy of the clergy. The jealousy 
of the Church was aroused, his words were carefully watch- 
ed, and a formal accusation of heresy was preferred against 
him before the tribunal of the Inquisition. After two 
years of imprisonment, during which the irresponsible in- 
quisitors, in their secret conclave, investigated his offenses 
and decided his fate, Olavide was called before them to re- 
ceive his doom, from which there was no appeal. 

The hall of the Inquisition was a long gloomy apartment 
with windows near the ceiling. Under a black canopy at 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 867 

one end of the room a crucifix was placed, as if constitut- 
ing a throne. In front of this stood a table, with chairs, 
at which the two inquisitors sat. Their functions were in- 
vested with so much solemnity and awe that the highest 
grandees of the realm stood at their side as servants, with- 
out hat or sword. Before the table there was a stool for 
the prisoner, and two stools for his guards. There were 
benches along the walls which were crowded with specta- 
tors, who were summoned to witness the scene. The ac- 
cused, emaciate and enfeebled by long and cruel imprison- 
ment, was brought before his judges. An eye-witness thus 
describes the ceremony : 

" Olavide soon appeared, attended by brothers in black, 
his looks quite cast down, his hands closed together, and 
holding a green taper. His dress was an olive-colored 
coat and waistcoat, white canvas breeches and thread stock- 
ings, and his hair was combed back into a bag. He was 
seated on the stool prepared for him. The secretaries then 
read, during three hours, the accustomed accusations and 
proceedings against him. 

" They consisted of above a hundred articles, such as 
his possession of free books, loose pictures, letters of recom- 
mendation from Yoltaire, his having neglected some ex- 
ternal duties of devotion, uttering hasty expressions, his 
inattention to images, together with every particular of his 
life, birth, and education : all were noted. It concluded de- 
claring him guilty of heresy. At that moment, in utter 
exhaustion, he fainted away, but was brought to the re- 
covery of his senses, that he might hear the sentence pro- 
nounced against him. 

" It was no less than this: deprivation of all his offices; 
incapacity of holding any office hereafter, or of receiving 



368 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

any royal favor ; confiscation of his property, banishment 
to thirty leagues from Madrid, from all places of royal resi- 
dence, from Seville, the new colony, and from Lima, the 
place of his birth ; prohibition from riding on horseback, 
or wearing gold, silver, or silk ; and eight years imprison- 
ment and monastic discipline in a convent. 

" The sentence being read, he was led to the table, where, 
on his knees, he recanted his errors and acknowledged his 
implicit belief in the articles of the Koman Catholic faith. 
Four priests in surplices and with wands in their hands 
then came in. They repeatedly laid their wands across 
his shoulders, while a miserere was sung. He then^ with- 
drew. The inquisitors bowed, and the strangers silently 
departed, with terror in their hearts but discretion on their 
lips." 

Eigorous as this punishment was, it was mild compared 
with that which would inevitably have been inflicted upon 
the accused but a few years before. He then could not 
have escaped being burned alive, probably after having ex- 
perienced terrible tortures. 

The possession of Gibraltar by England was a great 
mortification to the pride of Spain. Innumerable were 
the efforts of the Spanish Grovernment, by diplomacy, by 
purchase, by intrigue, by war, to obtain possession of that 
portion of its territory. But all was in vain. The British 
Grovernment held its conquest with a grasp which no influ- 
ence or power could relax. About the year 1781, Spain, 
in alliance with France, made one of the most desperate 
and energetic attempts recorded in history to regain Gibral- 
tar. The world-renowned rock, burrowed into innumer- 
able chambers and galleries, was garrisoned by seven thou- 
sand veteran troops. They were supplied with an abun- 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 369 

dance of the heaviest artillery and all the munitions of 
war. An allied army of French and Spaniards advanced, 
by trenches, along the low and narrow neck of land which 
connects the stupendous rock with the mainland. A squad- 
ron of ten immense floating batteries made the attack by 
sea, aided by a powerful fleet of gun-boats and ships of the 
line. These batteries were of enormous strength and mag- 
nitude. They bore an armament of two hundred and four- 
teen of the heaviest guns, and were manned by over five 
thousand men. 

The front of these floating fortresses was covered by 
three massive layers of solid heavy timber three feet thick. 
A shelving roof was contrived, to glance off shells and 
grapeshot. The exterior was covered with cordage and 
wet hides, to prevent conflagration. Beneath the roof there 
were reservoirs of water, which, by an ingenious contriv- 
ance, was conveyed by channels through all the woodwork 
of the structure like veins in the human body, so that red- 
hot shot cutting these pipes would be immediately inun- 
dated. These batteries were to be aided in the attack by 
numerous bomb-vessels and gun-boats and ten ships of the 
line. The assault was to be made simultaneously by both 
the land and the sea forces. 

These majestic preparations roused the ardor of all 
Spain. The king was exceedingly excited. He could talk 
of but little else, and was sanguine in his conviction that 
the British invaders would soon be driven from Spanish 
soil. As the hour for the tremendous cannonade approach- 
ed, thousands of spectators lined the adjacent hills. The 
most distinguished of the nobility of France and Spain 
had gathered to the spot. The attack commenced on the 
morning of the 13th of September, 1781. The batteries 

16* 



370 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

were moored at regular distances witliin six "hundred yards 
of the works. The cannonade which ensued was the heavi- 
est which earth had then ever known. Four hundred of 
the heaviest pieces of artillery were pealing forth their 
sublime thunderings every moment. 

Hours elapsed while the conflict continued unabated, 
and no one could perceive any superiority on either side. 
The floating batteries seemed to baffl.e all the powers of 
the Gibraltar guns ; and no more impression seemed to be 
made upon the rock itself than if the shot had been hurled 
against the eternal cliffs of Sinai. The English commander 
inquired with surprise, as the hours passed away, and his 
heaviest shells rebounded harmless from the batteries, and 
his balls of fire kindled no conflagration, " What can be the 
composition of these machines, on which red-hot balls pro- 
duce no effect?" 

x\t last, as night came on, some of the shot penetrated. 
Two of the batteries were on fire. Billows of smoke were 
followed by bursting flames. Eockets were thrown up as 
signals of distress. Numerous boats were instantly sent 
from the fleet to rescue the crews from these floating masses, 
which were now furnaces of flame. But the English, to 
baffle this attempt, sent out twelve gun-boats, which swept 
the water with grape and canister, and drove back the res- 
cuing boats to the fleet. At this awful moment numbers 
were seen hanging to the burning sides of the vessels, 
shrieking as the flames enveloped them. Others were 
floating upon pieces of timber, with agonizing cries implor- 
ing help. From others of the batteries flames began now 
to ascend. The fate of the enterprise was decided, and the 
assailants, no longer continuing their fire, as far as possible 
withdrew. 



THE SPANISH BOURBONS. 371 

The fire of the garrison immediately ceased, and the 
English commander did every thing in his power to rescue 
the perishing. But, notwithstanding all his efforts, two 
thousand perished in the flames or in the sea. The Span- 
iards themselves set fire to the remaining batteries to avoid 
their capture. Before the morning dawned the majestic 
armament had vanished. The semblance of a siege was for 
a time kept up, but at the approach of a powerful naval 
force from Ens-land the allied fleet retired. 

The possession of Gibraltar by England has ever been, 
and so long as it continues must ever be, a thorn in the side 
of Spain — an insuperable obstacle in the way of the es- 
tablishment of any cordial alliance between the two nations. 
In the year 1788 Charles III. had attained an advanced age. 
Though he had encountered political disappointments and 
domestic sorrows, he endeavored to find recompense for 
them in the pleasures of the chase, to which he was pas- 
sionately attached. This pastime was the peculiar foible 
of the Bourbon race of kings. We are told that Charles 
was irreproachable in his morals. After the death of his 
wife, Amelia of Saxony, who bore him thirteen children, 
he lived a pure life, and manifested his attachment to his 
departed companion by declining repeated and ^Dressing 
offers of the most beautiful and accomplished princesses in 
Europe. 

He was scrupulously devoted to the interests of his re- 
ligion, while jealous of any encroachments of the Pope or 
clergy on the civil authority. He was, on the whole, a 
well-meaning, kind-hearted man. His ruling passion, the 
love of shooting, absorbed every other feeling, and took the 
precedence of every other pursuit. He considered that day 
lost in which he had taken no part in his favorite amuse- 



372 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ment. He kept a minute diary of his exploits as a sports- 
man. To a foreign ambassador, just before his death, he 
boasted that he had killed with his own hand five hundred 
and thirty-nine wolves, and five thousand three hundred 
and twenty-three foxes ; adding, with a smile, " You see 
that my diversion is not useless to my country." Being a 
member of the House of Bourbon, his natural bias was 
strongly in favor of France. The people generally spoke 
of him as the good old king. An English traveller who 
visited his court writes : 

" I believe that there are but three days in the whole 
year that he spends without going out a-shooting, and those 
are noted with the blackest mark in the calendar. No 
storm, heat, or cold can keep him at home ; and when he 
hears of a wolf, distance is counted for nothing. He would 
drive over half the kingdom rather than miss an oppor- 
tunity of firing upon that favorite game. Besides a nu- 
merous retinue of persons belonging to the hunting estab- 
lishment, several times a year all the idle fellows in and 
about Madrid are hired to beat the country and drive the 
wild boars, deer, and hares into a ring, where they pass be- 
fore the royal family." 

The latter part of the year 1788 Charles was seized with 
a cold. This led to an inflammatory fever, which hurried 
him to the grave, in the seventy -third year of his age, and 
the seventeenth of his reign. He gathered his family 
around his dying bed, and affectionately took leave of them, 
entreating them earnestly to adhere to the religion of their 
ancestors. The crown thus descended to his son Charles 
IV., then thirty years of age. 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 373 



CHAPTER XYIII. 

CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 

<From 1788 A.D. to 1808 A.D.) 

Character of Charles IV. and his "Wife. — Manuel Godoy. — The Insurrection in 
Madrid. — Domestic QuaiTels. — Forced Abdication of the King. — Appeal to 
Napoleon. — Views of the Emperor. — The Interview at Bayonne. — Testimony 
of Alison ; of Thiers ; of Napier. — The Spanish Bourbons sell the Crown. — 
Remarks of the Emperor. 

WE know but little about the early life of Charles lY. 
save that it was a life of sin and shame. He was a 
man of weak intellect, impotent in action, and dissolute be- 
yond all restraint in his habits. His wife, Maria Louisa, a 
IN'eapolitan princess, was a woman thoroughly abandoned 
to sensualit}^, without any apparent sense of her utter deg- 
radation. Soon after the accession of Charles lY. to the 
throne, the throes of the approaching French Revolution 
began to be felt throughout all Europe, giving rise to the 
Republic and the Empire in France. The pollution of the 
Spanish court under Charles lY. and Maria Louisa can not 
be described. It is admitted by all, denied by none. Nei- 
ther the king nor the queen made any attempt to disguise 
their profligacy. 

Both of them had become so corrupt as to lose not only 
all sense of religious obligation, but even that sentiment of 
honor which usually accompanies nuptial vows. The 
guilty favorites of the king and the paramours of the 
queen, undisguised, unabashed, mingled with the courtiers 



374 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

amidst the festivities of the palace, in scenes of sin and 
shame which could scarcely have been exceeded in the 
courts of the most degraded of the Roman Emperors or of 
the Babylonian kings. 

In the body-guard of the king there was a handsome 
young soldier by the name of Manuel God oy. He became 
the especial favorite of the queen, and, strange as it may 
seem, of the king also. There was no attempt to disguise 
the guilty relations existing between Godoy and Louisa. 
And yet the king was so lost to all self-respect as not only 
cordially to acquiesce in that relation, but also to make 
Godoy his confidant and friend. There seemed to be an 
understanding between the king and the queen that nei- 
ther of them should interfere with the untrammelled license 
of the other. 

Wealth and dignities were lavished upon Godoy. Though 
he never gave any evidence of statesmanlike ability, he 
must have been a man of considerable tact and cunning. 
He gathered all the reins of government in his own hands, 
and for a time reigned absolute monarch of Spain. The 
king, entirely devoted to pleasure, did not wish to be an- 
noyed with the cares of state. He therefore gladly accept- 
ed the relief which the paramour of the queen readily af- 
forded him. In consequence of a treaty of peace which 
Godoy effected, he received the title of the '' Prince of 
Peace," by which title he is generally known in Spanish 
annals. Such was the condition of Spain under the Bour- 
bons when all the thrones of Europe were trembling be- 
neath the thunders of the great battles of Marengo and 
Austerlitz. 

"Every day," said Charles TV. to l^apoleon, "winter as 
well as summer, I go out to shoot from morning till noon. 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 375 

I then dine, and return to the cbase, which I continue till 
sunset. Manuel Godoy then gives me a brief account of 
what is going on, and I go to bed, to recommence the same 
life on the morrow." 

Louisa had three sons, Ftirdinand, Carlos, and Francisco. 
Ferdinand, the heir-apparent to the throne, was, at the time 
of which we write, about twenty -five years of age. He in- 
herited the characteristic traits of both father and mother, 
possessing but little education or mental ability, being very 
profligate, and entirely devoted to dissipating pleasure. 
Louisa expressed her estimate of this son in saying, " Fer- 
dinand has a mule's head and a tiger's heart." The heir- 
apparent was anxious to ascend the throne, and was exas- 
perated in seeing all the power of the kingdom in the 
hands of Godoy, whom he mortally hated. As his father, 
Charles IV., was in comparatively vigorous health, and 
gave no indication of any intention to die, Ferdinand de- 
cided to attempt to expedite his departure by administering 
to him poison. At least so his parents say, and we are not 
aware that Ferdinand ever took any special pains to deny 
it. 

Godoy detected the plot. Ferdinand was arrested. No 
one supposed that he was the child of Charles TV. It is 
therefore, perhaps, not surprising that the old king should 
have been very eager to send him to the scaffold. A 
mother's love is generally proof against any amount of in- 
gratitude or sin. But the wretched Louisa had no moth- 
er's love in her heart. She hated her son, and was equally 
anxious with the kino^ that he should be removed from 
their way by an ignominious dqath. Godoy both feared 
and hated the young prince, and was determined upon his 
destruction. 



376 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

But the populace of Madrid espoused the cause of Fer- 
dinand. They could more easily make allowances for 
what they deemed youthful indiscretions, than for the scan- 
dalous lives of hoary old debauchees. Intense excitement 
pervaded the streets of Madrid. Excited masses, ripe for 
insurrection, swarmed in the squares of the city. Porten- 
tous mutterings were heard. Cudgels rang upon the pave- 
ments. Poniards gleamed in the lamplight. 

The gilded chariot of Godoy appeared in the street. It 
was the spark in the magazine. Fearful was the explosion. 
Stones, clubs, brick-bats, and every other attainable missile 
were hurled at the wretched man. His horses were goaded 
to the utmost speed. A rushing, roaring mob pursued. 
The carriage entered the portals of the palace, and the oak- 
en doors closed behind it. Like the rush of ocean tides, 
the frenzied mob encircled the buildings, so numerous, so 
maddened, that the few troops stationed there for the de- 
fense of the favorite did not dare to fire upon them. The 
terror-stricken man fled to the garret, and rolling himself 
up in some old mats covered with the accumulated dust 
and cobwebs of ages, concealed himself behind a chimney. 
The mob dashed in the doors, swept through halls, parlors, 
chambers. The palace was sacked, sofas, mirrors, paint- 
ings, all the luxurious furnishings of wealth were hurled 
from the windows, broken into fragments, and burned upon 
the pavements. 

Every room, crevice, corner was searched for the wretch. 
Sharp-edged knives were drawn. Assassination is the 
pastime of a Spanish mob. Godoy, almost smothered in 
his burial amidst rags and dust and spiders, trembled in 
every nerve as he listened to the angry tramp, execrations, 
and menaces which surrounded him. But his concealment 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA, 877 

eluded the search. The night came, and its long hours of 
terror passed slowly away. The day dawned. The sun 
attained its meridian, and sank again in darkness. Still 
Godoy dared not move. The second night came, and the 
roar of the mob, swelling through the palace and through 
the streets, fell appallingly upon the ear of Godoy. The 
king and queen had no energy of character, no courage of 
heart, even to attempt to interfere and save him. 

Thirty -six hours had tolled. The wretch was dying of 
thirst and hunger. In the dim light of the third morning 
he crept from his concealment, and stealthily endeavored to 
find his way down some back stairs in search of food. A 
watchful eye detected him. The alarm was given. The 
cry ran through the streets, and the mob again rushed to 
seize their victim. Godoy, pallid and haggard with starva- 
tion and terror, was dragged out-of-doors, his clothes soiled 
and torn, his hair dishevelled, and as they were hurrying 
him to the lamp-post a squadron of the king's mounted 
guards came clattering through the streets to his rescue. 
Two of the stoutest of the grenadiers seized him, one by 
each arm, between their horses, and dragged him upon the 
full gallop, partially suspended from their saddles, over the 
rough pavement to the nearest prison. Half dead with 
fright, starvation, and bruises, he was thrust into a cell, and 
the iron doors closed upon him. He was now safe beyond 
the reach of the mob. 

The surging masses, thus baffled, were only the more 
exasperated. They rushed to the palace of the king, de- 
manding the release of Ferdinand, the dismissal of Godoy, 
and the abdication of the crown in favor of Ferdinand. 
Charles and Louisa were terror-stricken. The storms which 
had overwhelmed the Bourbons in France were now howl- 



378 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ing around their throne. Visions of dungeons and of the 
guillotine appalled their guilty spirits. The king, to ap- 
pease the mob, issued a proclamation dismissing Godoy and 
abdicating the throne in favor of his " well-beloved son, 
Ferdinand." 

The fear of a violent de^th had driven the king to this 
measure. It was a perfidious act, to which he had been com- 
pelled by threats, and which he had no intention whatever 
of respecting. Charles lY. immediately wrote to Napoleon 
to assist him to regain the crown which his son had thus 
forcibly wrenched from his brow. 

"I have resigned," he said, " in favor of my son. The 
din of arms and the clamor of my insurgent people left me 
no alternative but resignation or death. I have been forced 
to abdicate. I have no longer any hope but in the aid and 
support of my magnanimous ally, the Emperor Napoleon." 

Ferdinand also, well aware that he could not retain the 
crown, should the Emperor espouse the cause of his father, 
wrote to Napoleon in the most fawning phrases of syco- 
phancy and adulation. 

" The world," he said, " daily more and more admires 
the greatness and goodness of Napoleon. Eest assured 
that the Emperor shall ever find in Ferdinand the most 
faithful and devoted son. Ferdinand implores, therefore, 
the paternal protection of the Emperor. He also solicits 
the honor of an alliance with his family." 

Thus both father and son appealed to Napoleon for help. 
To understand the curious events which ensued, and which 
resulted in the removal of the Bourbons from the throne 
of Spain for several years, it will be necessary to turn back 
a few pages in the book of history. The scenes which we 
have above described took place in the year 1807. 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 379 

A few months before England, Russia, and Prussia had 
formed a new coalition against Napoleon. The Prussian 
army, two hundred thousand strong, headed by Frederick 
William, the king, commenced its march upon France, and, 
entering Saxony, compelled the king to join the alliance. 
" Our cause," said Frederick, " is the common cause of 
legitimate kings, and all such must aid in the enterprise." 
The Emperor Alexander, anxious to wipe out the stain of 
Austerlitz, was hurrying across the plains of Poland with 
two hundred thousand soldiers in his train, to join the 
Prussian king in his march upon Paris. England, with her 
omnipotent and omnipresent fleet, was crowding the shores 
of the Mediterranean and of the Channel, dealing her 
heaviest blows upon any exposed point, and striving with 
her gold to lure other nations into the coalition against the 
Eepublican Emperor, the monarch of popular choice, whom 
they stigmatized as " the child and the champion of de- 
mocracy." 

With deepest sorrow ISTapoleon gathered his strength to 
meet the rising storm, which he had done nothing to pro- 
voke. In the Moniteur the Emperor had made an appeal, 
in the following terms, to the combined monarchs who were 
threaten in 2: him : 

" Why should hostilities arise between France and Rus- 
sia? If the Emperor of France exercises a great influence 
in Italy, the Czar exercises a still greater influence in Tur- 
key and Persia. If the Cabinet of Russia pretends to have 
a right to affix limits to the power of France, without doubt 
it is equally disposed to allow the Emperor of the French 
to prescribe the bound beyond which Russia is not to pass. 
Russia has seized upon the Crimea, the Caucasus, and the 
northern provinces of Persia. Can she deny that the right 



380 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of self-preservation gives France a title to demand an 
equivalent in Europe? Let every power begin by restor- 
ing the conquests whicb it has made during the last fifty 
years. Let them re-establish Poland, restore Yenice to its 
Senate, Trinidad to Spain, Ceylon to Holland, the Crimea 
to the Porte, the Caucasus and Georgia to Persia, the king- 
dom of Mysore to the sons of Tippoo Saib, and the Mah- 
ratta States to their lawful owners; and then the other 
powers may have some title to insist that France shall re- 
tire within her ancient limits." 

As the Emperor left Paris for the campaign of Jena and 
Auerstadt, he said to the Senate: " In so just a war, which 
we have not provoked by any act, by any pretense, the true 
cause of which it would be impossible to assign, and when 
we only take arms to defend ourselves, we depend entirely 
upon the support of the laws and upon that of the people, 
whom circumstances call upon to give fresh proofs of their 
devotion and courage." 

Napoleon was soon at the head of his army, and by 
skillful manoeuvres had so effectually surrounded the Prus- 
sians, cutting them off from all their supplies, that he felt 
sure of a signal victory. Under these circumstances he 
wrote as follows to the King of Prussia : 

''Sire, — I am now in the heart of Saxony. Believe 
me that my strength is such that your forces can not long 
balance the victory. But wherefore shed so much blood ? 
To what purpose? Why should we make our subjects 
slay each other ? I do not prize victory which is purchased 
by the lives of so many of my children. If I were just 
commencing my military career, and if I had any reason 
to fear the chances of war, this language would be wholly 



CHAELES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 381 

misplaced. Sire, yoiir Majesty will be vanquished. At 
present you are uninjured, and may treat with me in a 
manner conformable with joui rank. Before a month has 
passed you will treat, but in a different position. I am 
aware that I may, in thus writing, irritate that sensibility 
which naturally belongs to every sovereign. But circum- 
stances demand that I should use no concealment. I im- 
plore your Majesty to view, in this letter, nothing but the 
desire I have to spare the effusion of human blood. Sire, 
my brother, I pray God that he may have you in His 
worthy and holy keeping. Your Majesty's good brother, 

" Napoleon." 

No reply was returned to this letter. The evening of 
the 13th of October, 1806, had come. Both armies were 
prepared for a desperate battle. At midnight Napoleon 
was bivouacked upon the summit of a high and steep hill, 
called the Landgrafenberg. The camp-fires of the two 
hosts, spread over an extent of eighteen miles, illumined 
the sky. It was a gloomy hour. The forces opposed to 
each other were nearly equal. Alexander, as we have 
mentioned, was hurrying forward with two hundred thou- 
sand troops. Should the Emperor be worsted in the con- 
flict, Austria, Sweden, and all the minor monarchies would 
immediately fall upon him. 

Napoleon was roused from a transient sleep to read im- 
portant dispatches which were placed in his hands. These 
dispatches informed him that the Bourbons of Spain, while 
professing friendship and alliance, had entered into a secret 
treaty with England to join the Allies should Napoleon be 
defeated. They had agreed to cross the Pyrenees with a 
powerful army and to attack France in the rear. There 



382 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

was never a more unprovoked act of treachery. ISTapoleon, 
as he folded the papers, calmly remarked, " The Bourbons 
of Spain shall be replaced by princes of my own family." 

The next morning, in the terrible conflicts of Jena and 
Auerstadt, the Prussian host was shivered and scattered as- 
hy the fabled thunderbolts of Jove. Godoy and the Span- 
ish Bourbons were terrified by this unanticipated result. 
They instantly sheathed the sword which they had drawn, 
disbanded their armies, and hypocritically sent an ambassa- 
dor to congratulate Napoleon upon his victory. The Em- 
peror smiled as he received the document, saying, " This 
letter was intended for the Allies; the address simply has 
been changedo" 

Such were the relations existing between France and 
Spain when the insurrection at Madrid drove Charles TV. 
from the throne. The event was unexpected to Napoleon, 
and he seems to have been much embarrassed as to the best 
course to pursue. Charles TV. and Godoy were so despised 
and hated that it would be in vain to attempt to restore 
them to the throne. If it were indeed true that Ferdinand 
were the wretch that rumor described him to be, and that 
he had actually endeavored to poison his father. Napoleon 
could not consistently advocate his claims. To remove 
them both by violence, and place one of his bi^others upon 
the throne, would exasperate anew all the dynasties. 

Napoleon was at the palace of St. Cloud when he first 
received tidings of the abdication of Charles TV. in favor 
of Ferdinand. In earnest conversation upon the subject 
with General Savary, the Duke of Rovigo, he said : 

" Charles TV. has abdicated. His son has succeeded 
him. This change has been the result of a revolution, in 
which the Prince of Peace ha§ fallen. It looks as if the 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 383 

abdication were not altogether voluntary. I was prepared 
for changes in Spain. They are taking a turn altogether 
different from what I had expected. I wish you to go to 
Madrid. See our ambassador. Inquire why he could not 
have prevented a revolution in which I shall be forced to 
intervene, and in which I shall be considered as implicated. 

'' Before I can recognize the son I must ascertain the 
sentiments of the father. He is my ally. It is with him 
that I have contracted engagements. If he appeal for my 
support he shall have it. Nothing will induce me to rec- 
ognize Ferdinand till I see the abdication duly legalized. 
When I made peace on the Niemen I stipulated that if 
England did not accept the mediation of Alexander, Kussia 
should unite her arms with ours and comjDcl that power to 
peace. I should be indeed weak if, having obtained that 
single advantage from those I have vanquished, I should 
permit the Spaniards to embroil me afresh upon my weak 
side. Should I permit Spain to form an alliance with Eng- 
land, it would give that hostile power greater advantages 
than it has lost by the rupture with Eussia. I fear every 
thing from a revolution of which I know neither the causes 
nor the object. 

" I wish above all things to avoid a war with Spain. 
Such a conflict would be a species of sacrilege. But I 
shall not hesitate to incur its horrors if the prince who 
governs Spain embraces such a policy. Had Charles IV. 
reigned, and the Prince of Peace not been overturned, we 
might have remained at peace. JSTow all is changed ; for 
that country, ruled by a warlike monarch, disposed to di- 
rect against us all the resources of his nation, might per- 
haps succeed in displacing by his own dynasty my family 
on the throne of France. You sec what might happen if 



384 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

I do not prevent it. It is my duty to foresee the danger, 
and to take measures to deprive the enemy of the resources 
they might otherwise derive from it. If I can not arrange 
with either the father or the son, I will make a clean sweep 
of them both. I will re-assemble the Cortes, and resume 
the designs of Louis XIY. I should thus be in the same 
situation with that monarch when he engaged, in support 
of his grandson, in the war of the succession. The same 
political necessity governs both cases. I am fully pre- 
pared for all that. I am about to set out for Bayonne. I 
will go on to Madrid, but only if it is unavoidable." 

It seems, however, that if ISTapoleon had not then come 
to a decision as to the course he was to pursue, his mind 
soon inclined very strongly towards the overthrow of the 
Bourbons, for the next morning he wrote to his brother 
Joseph, and after informing him of the revolution which 
had taken place in Spain, he remarked : 

" Being convinced that I shall never be able to con- 
clude a solid peace with England till I have given a great 
movement on the Continent, I have resolved to put a 
French prince on the throne of Spain. In this state of af- 
fairs I have turned my eyes to you for the throne of Spain. 
Say at once what is your opinion on that subject. You 
must be aware that this plan is yet in embryo. Though I 
have one hundred thousand men in Spain, yet, according 
to circumstances, I may either advance directly to my ob- 
ject, in which case every thing will be concluded in a fort- 
night, or be more circumspect in my advances, and the final 
result appear after several months' operations." 

In a letter which, two days later, he wrote to his broth- 
er-in-law, Murat, Grand-duke of Berg, who was then in 
command of the French troops at Madrid, he very fully 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 385 

unfolded the difficulties with which the subject was em- 
barrassed. In this letter he writes : 

"I find myself very much perplexed. Do not imagine 
that you can, merely by showing your troops, subjugate 
Spain. The Spaniards still possess energy. They have 
all the courage, and will display all the enthusiasm shown 
by men who are not worn out by political passions. The 
aristocracy and the clergy are the masters of Spain. If 
they are alarmed for their privileges and existence, they 
will bring into the field against us levies in mass which 
might eternize the war. I am not without partisans. If I 
present myself as a conqueror, I shall have them no lon- 
ger. The Prince of Peace is detested. The Prince of the 
Asturias (Ferdinand) does not possess a single quality req- 
uisite for the head of a nation. I will have no violence 
employed against the personages of this family. England 
will not let the opportunity escape her of multiplying our 
embarrassments. 

" Spain is, perhaps, of all the countries in Europe, the 
one that is least prepared for a revolution. Those who 
perceive the monstrous vices in the Government, and the 
anarchy which has taken the place of the lawful author- 
ity, are the fewest in number. The greater number profit 
by those vices and that anarchy. I can, consistently with 
the interests of my empire, do a great deal of good to 
Spain. What are the best means to be adopted ? Shall I 
go to Madrid ? Shall I take upon myself the office of 
grand protector in pronouncing between the father and 
the son ? It seems to me a matter of difficulty to support 
Charles TV. on the throne. His Government and his fa- 
vorite are so very unpopular that they could not stand 
their ground for three months. 

17 



386 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

" Ferdinand is the enemy of France. To place him on 
the throne would be to serve the factions which for twenty 
years have longed for the destruction of France. A fami- 
ly alliance would be but a feeble tie. My opinion is that 
nothing should be hurried forward, and that we should 
take counsel of events as they occur. I do not approve 
of the step which your imperial highness has taken in 
so precipitately making yourself master of Madrid. The 
army ought to have been kept ten leagues from the 
capital. 

" I shall hereafter decide on what is to be done. You 
will behave with attention to the king, the queen, and 
Prince Godoy. You will manage so that the Spaniards 
will have no suspicion which part I mean to take. You 
will find less difficulty in this, as I do not know myself 
You will make the nobility- and clergy understand that if 
the interference of France be requisite in the affairs of 
Spain, their privileges and immunities will be respected. 
You will assure them that the Emperor wishes for the im- 
provement of the political institutions of Spain in order to 
put her on a footing with the advanced state of civilization 
in Europe, and to free her from the yoke of favorites. You 
will tell the magistrates, the inhabitants of the towns, and 
the well-informed classes, that Spain stands in need of hav- 
ing the machinery of her Government reorganized, and 
that she requires a system of laws to protect the people 
against the tyranny and encroachments of feudality, with 
institutions which may revive industry, agriculture, and 
the arts. You will describe to them the tranquillity and 
plenty enjoyed in France, notwithstanding the wars in 
which she has been constantly engaged. You will ex- 
plain to them the advantages they may derive from polit- 



CHAKLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 387 

ical regeneration — order and peace at home, respect and 
influence abroad. 

"I enjoin the strictest maintenance of discipline. The 
slightest faults must not go unpunished. The inhabitants 
must be treated with the greatest attention. Above all, 
the churches and convents must be respected. The army 
must avoid all misunderstanding with the bodies and de- 
tachments of the Spanish army. A single flash in the pan 
must not be permitted on either side. If war is once kin- 
dled, all would be lost." 

Such was the state of affairs when Napoleon received a 
letter from Charles lY. imploring the Emperor to interpose 
in his behalf. '' My son," the king wrote, "has attempted 
to poison me. My only hope is in the aid of my mag- 
nanimous ally, the Emperor Napoleon. Restore to me 
my crown, and I will be your Majesty's most devoted 
friend." 

Godoy also wrote in similar terms of supplication, en- 
treating the Emperor to reinstate Charles lY. upon the 
throne, from which an unnatural son had driven him. 

Ferdinand also wrote to the Emperor still more fawn- 
ingly, entreating the recognition of his right to the Spanish 
crown, and begging the Emperor to confirm the alliance by 
giving him one of his nieces for a wife. 

The situation of the Emperor, in view of these appeals, 
as is sufficiently manifest, was very embarrassing. There 
was no course of action or of inaction which he could pur- 
sue which was not fraught with peril, or which would not 
expose him to the most severe denunciations. 

Business summoned the Emperor to Bayonne, near the 
frontiers of Spain. Through his ambassador he informed 
the antagonistic members of the Spanish court that if they 



388 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

wished they could meet him there. Napoleon and Jose- 
phine reached Bayonne on the fifteenth of April, 1808. 
Ferdinand was endeavoring to discredit Godoy by accusing 
him of being the paramour of his mother. Napoleon wrote 
to him from Bayonne as follows : 

" You will permit me, under present circumstances, to 
speak to you with truth and frankness. I pass no decision 
upon the conduct of the Prince of Peace. But I know well 
that it is dangerous for kings to accustom their people to 
shed blood. The people willingly avenge themselves for 
the homage which they pay us. 

" How can the process be drawn up against the Prince 
of Peace without involving in it the queen and the king 
your father ? Your Eoyal Highness has no other claim to 
the crown than that which you derive from your mother. 
If this process degrades her, your Eoyal Highness degrades 
your own title. The criminality of Godoy, if it can be 
proved against him, goes to annihilate your right to the 
crown. I say to your Eoyal Highness, to the Spaniards, and 
to the world, that if the abdication of Charles IV. is uncon- 
strained, I will not hesitate to acknowledge it, and to recog- 
nize your Eoyal Highness as King of Spain." 

Ferdinand was at this time doing every thing in his 
power to blazon abroad the shame of his mother, and to 
bring Godoy to trial as her paramour. Napoleon endeav- 
ored thus delicately to intimate to him that by dishonoring 
his mother he dishonored himself, and invalidated his own 
title to the crown. But this wretched mother was so lost 
to all sense of shame that it is said she reproached her son 
with being the child of ignominious birth, telling him to 
his face, and in the presence of others, that her husband was 
not his father. 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 389 

Ferdinand, hoping by a personal interview to secure the 
support of Napoleon, repaired to Baj^onne to meet him. 
He was accompanied by a magnificent escort. Charles IV. 
and the queen, learning of this movement, resolved also to 
hasten to Bayonne to plead their cause before the sovereign 
who, at that time, held the destinies of so many monarchs 
in his hands. Godoy followed after. Thus unexpectedly. 
Napoleon found the whole royal family of Spain suppliants 
at his feet ; for Charles had taken with him bis two young- 
er sons, Carlos and Francisco. 

Thus all the members of the Spanish royal family were 
assembled at Bayonne. Napoleon received them with ev- 
ery mark of attention, and entertained them with impe- 
rial hospitality. Though he was prepared to meet a very 
degenerate family, he was amazed at the development of 
imbecility and depravity which was presented to him. 
Charles IV., Louisa, and Godoy were not reluctant to relin- 
quish the cares of regal state, could they but retain the 
means for the gratification of their appetites and passions. 
M. Thiers, speaking of the journey of Charles IV. and his 
court to Bayonne, says : 

" It had been impossible to inspire them with a mo- 
ment's confidence since the 17th of March. Spain had be- 
come hateful to them. They constantly spoke of quitting 
it, and of going to occupy even a humble farm in France, 
a country which their powerful friend Napoleon had ren- 
dered at once so calm, so peaceable, and so safe. But the 
case was altered altogether when they learned that Ferdi- 
nand VII. had set out in order to have a personal interview 
with Napoleon. Although they had neither any great 
hope nor a great ambition of resuming the sceptre, they 
were filled with envy at the idea of Ferdinand gaining his 



390 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

cause with tlie arbiter of their destiny — of his being recog- 
nized and settled as king by the acknowledgment of France, 
thus becoming their master and that of the unfortunate Go- 
doy, and of being able to decide their fate and that of all 
their creatures. Not being able to bear this idea, they con- 
ceived an ardent desire to proceed in person to plead their 
cause against their unnatural son in the presence of the all- 
powerful sovereign who was approaching the Pyrenees." 

The Emperor, in order to accommodate the Spanish- roy- 
al family in the apartments which he occupied in Bayonne, 
purchased the beautiful chateau of Marac, about three miles 
from the city, which he hastily prepared for himself and 
Josephine. This chateau was delightfully situated in the 
midst of a blooming garden, and in a climate as serene and 
sunny as Southern Europe can afford. The Imperial Guard 
encamped in the garden. Ferdinand, upon his arrival at 
Bayonne, was conducted to the apartments which ISTapoleon 
had vacated for his reception. He had scarcely alighted 
from his carriage ere Napoleon met him with courteous 
greeting, addressing him, however, not as king of Spain, but 
as prince of the Asturias. After a brief interview the Em- 
peror retired, and an hour after his chamberlain waited 
upon the prince to invite him to dine at the chateau of Ma- 
rac. Here he was again received with marked courtesy, 
and though the subject of politics was avoided, the con- 
versation at once revealed to the eagle glance of the Emper- 
or the mental poverty of the prince and his palpable moral 
degeneracy. 

Having dismissed Ferdinand 9>nd most of his small reti- 
nue, Napoleon retained Escoiquiz, the learned preceptor of 
the prince, and informed him of his determination to de- 
throne both the father and the son; that he was fully in- 



CHAKLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 391 

formed of their treachery ; that it was not safe for France, 
assailed by coalition after coalition of all dynastic Europe, 
to leave such perfidious foes in her rear ; that there was an 
irrepressible conflict between the two systems of feudal des- 
potisms and equal rights for all, and that the interests of 
Spain demanded that she should be rescued from the de- 
basement into which ages of misrule had plunged her, and 
take her place by the side of those nations of regenerated 
Europe which had inscribed equal rights for all men upon 
their banners. 

It would seem that there were but four plans open be- 
fore Napoleon. The first was to support the claims of 
Charles lY. and Godoy. But in objection to this arose the 
fact that they were so degraded and tyrannical as to be un- 
worthy of support, and so unpopular that even the influence 
of the Emperor, though sustained by a strong military force, 
would be unavailing to maintain them on the throne. The 
second plan was to recognize and maintain the claims of 
Ferdinand. But he was an infamous character, who had 
obtained the crown by treachery, and who had attempted 
the life of his parents. He was thoroughly unreliable, and 
would probably unite with the Allies against regenerated 
France at the first chance of success. A matrimonial alli- 
ance would have but little restraint upon him, neither could 
Napoleon think of uniting one of his nieces to a man so de- 
graded. The third plan was to do nothing ; to leave the 
Bourbons of Spain and the people of Spain to fight out 
their own battles and to settle their own feuds. But this 
would be to surrender Spain to the English, and would 
speedily wheel all the military force of the kingdom into the 
line of those banded despots who were assailing France on 
every side. 



392 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

The only remaining plan was, by the combined influence 
of intimidation and remuneration, to remove the Bourbons 
from the throne, and replace them by some prince of the 
Bonaparte family who would be in sympathy with the or- 
der of things then reigning in France. The objection to 
this was that it would greatly exasperate the reigning dy- 
nasties, as an indication of the intention of Napoleon to 
overthrow all the feudal thrones of Europe, and to rear 
upon their ruin sovereignties pledged to maintain the new 
principles of the French Eevolution. The execution of 
this plan would also expose the Emperor to the accusation 
of trickery and deceit, as this end could only be accomplish- 
ed by taking advantage of the baseness of the royal family 
of Spain, and of the difB.culties in which that baseness had 
involved them. 

It seems to be admitted even by those least friendly to 
the policy of the Emperor that he had good cause for re- 
moving the Bourbons, though some of them differ in judg- 
ment as to the best mode of accomplishing that object. 
The Emperor Alexander said to M. Caulaincourt : 

" Your emperor can not suffer any Bourbon so near 
him. This is on his part a consistent policy which I en- 
tirely admit. I am not jealous of his aggrandi-eement, 
especially when it is prompted by the same motives as the 
last." 

Sir Archibald Alison, though he loses no possible op- 
portunity to denounce the Emperor, says, " The assertion, 
frequently repeated by Napoleon, that he was not the au- 
thor of the family disputes between Charles TV. and Ferdi- 
nand, but merely stepped in to dispossess them both, is per- 
fectly well-founded. It is evident also, such was the fasci- 
nation produced by his power and talents, that no difficulty 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 893 

was experienced in getting the royal family of Spain to 
throw themselves into his hands ; nay, that there was rath- 
er a race between the father and son which should first ar- 
rive at the head-quarters to state their case favorably to the 
supreme arbiter of their fate." 

Thiers, speaking of the eagerness of Ferdinand YII. and 
his counsellors to plead their cause before Napoleon, writes : 
" They would have been a hundred times better pleased to 
see Napoleon reign in Spain than to see the queen again in 
possession of the royal authority. The same feelings were 
entertained by the old sovereigns in their turn. This feel- 
ing caused the sceptre of Philip Y. to fall into the hands of 
the Bonaparte family." 

Napoleon said at St. Helena, " The unfortunate war in 
Spain proved a real wound ; the first cause of the misfor- 
tunes of France. If I could have foreseen that that affair 
would have caused me so much vexation and chagrin, I 
would never have engaged in it. But, after the first steps 
taken in the affair, it was impossible for me to recede. 
When I saw those imbeciles quarrelling and trying to de- 
throne each other, I thought I might as well take advan- 
tage of it to dismiss an inimical family. But I was not the 
contriver of their disputes. Had I known at the first that 
the transaction would have given me so much trouble, I 
would never have attempted it." 

The decision to which Napoleon finally came to pur- 
chase the crown of Spain and place it upon the brow of his 
brother Joseph became, through the hostile interposition 
of the British fleet and army, eminently disastrous. The 
oligarchy which then governed England preferred any 
rule, no matter how corrupt, of feudal aristocracy, to any 
government, no matter how beneficial, of equal rights for 

17^ 



394 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

all. Speaking of the difficulties which the new govern- 
ment of Joseph Bonaparte immediately had to encounter 
in Spain, Colonel Napier writes : 

" But the occult source of most of these difficulties is to 
be found in the inconsistent attempts of the British Cabi- 
net to uphold national independence with internal slavery, 
against foreign aggression with an ameliorated government. 
The clergy of Spain, who led the mass of the people, 
clung to the English because they supported aristocracy 
and court domination. The English ministers, hating 
Napoleon, not because he was the enemy of England, but 
because he was the champion of equality, cared not for 
Spain unless her people were enslaved. They were wil- 
ling enough to use a liberal Cortes to defeat Napoleon, but 
they also desired to put down that Cortes by the aid of the 
clergy and of the bigoted part of the people." 

Again he writes: "It was some time before the Church 
and aristocratic party of Spain discovered that the secret 
policy of England was the same as their own. It was so, 
however, even to the upholding of the Inquisition, which 
it was ridiculously asserted had become objectionable only in 
name. The educated classes in Spain shrunk from the Brit- 
ish Government's known hostility to all free institutions." 

Napoleon, at St. Helena, instructed by the results, ex- 
pressed himself as convinced of the impolicy of the meas- 
ures which he had adopted. " The impolicy," said he, " of 
my conduct in reference to Spain is irrevocably decided by 
the results. I ought to have given a liberal constitution 
to the Spanish nation, and charged Ferdinand with its exe- 
cution. If he had acted in -good faith, Spain must have 
prospered and harmonized with our new manners. The 
great object would have been obtained, and France would 



CHARLES IV. AND MAKIA LOUISA. 395 

have acquired an intimate ally, and an additional power 
truly formidable. Had Ferdinand, on the contrary, proved 
faithless to his engagements, the Spaniards themselves would 
not have failed to dismiss him, and would have applied to 
me for a ruler in his place. At all events, that unfortunate 
war in Spain was a real affliction. 

" I was assailed with imputations for which I have given 
no cause. History will do me justice. I was charged in 
that affair with perfidy, with laying snares, and with bad 
faith ; and yet I was completely innocent. Never, what- 
ever may have been said to the contrary, have I broken 
any engagement or violated my promise either with regard 
to Spain or any other power. 

" The world will one day be convinced that in the prin- 
cipal transactions relative to Spain I was completely a 
stranger to all the intrigues of the court; that I violated 
no engagement either with the father or the son ; that I 
made use of no falsehoods to entice them both to Bayonne, 
but that they both strove which should be the first to show 
himself there. When I saw them at my feet, and was able 
to form a correct opinion of their total incapacity, I be- 
held with compassion the fate of a great people. I eager- 
ly seized the singular opportunity, held out to me by for- 
tune, for regenerating Spain, rescuing her from the yoke of 
England, and intimately uniting her with our system. It 
was, in my conception, laying the fundamental basis of the 
tranquillity and security of Europe. 

" Such, in a few words, is the whole history of the affair 
of Spain. Let the world write and say what it thinks fit, 
the result must be what I have stated. You will perceive 
that there was no occasion whatever for my pursuing in- 
direct means, falsehoods, breach of promises, and violation 



396 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of my faith. In order to render myself culpable, it would 
have been absolutely necessary that I should have dishon- 
ored myself. I never yet betrayed any wish of that na- 
ture." 

Colonel Napier, in his History of the Peninsular War, 
alluding to this subject, says : 

" The Spanish Bourbons could never have been sincere 
friends to France while Bonaparte held the sceptre. And 
the moment that his power ceased to operate, it was quite 
certain that their apparent friendship would change to act- 
ive hostility. The proclamation issued by the Spanish 
Cabinet just before the battle of Jena was evidence of this 
fact. Had he, before he meddled with their affairs, brought 
the people into hostile contact with their Government — and 
how many points would not such a Government have of- 
fered ? — instead of appearing as the treacherous arbitrator 
in a domestic quarrel, he would have been hailed as the de- 
liverer of a great people." 

The plan which Colonel Napier recommends was delib- 
erately to involve the nation in the woes of civil war. 
Napoleon hoped to attain, without the effusion of blood, 
the end which Napier admits he was justified in attempting 
to attain. 

Charles lY. and Louisa reached Bayonne soon after Na- 
poleon's interview with Ferdinand. Charles had sent for- 
ward to Napoleon a protest against his abdication in favor 
of Ferdinand, which protest was published in the Bayonne 
Gazette on the 29th of April, 1808. Upon the king's ar- 
rival the next day, the Emperor held immediately a private 
interview with him, the queen, and Godoy. They all three 
hated Ferdinand so intensely that they preferred to see any 
one, even an enemy, on the throne of Spain rather than 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 397 

Ferdinand. There were many Spaniards of the highest 
rank who had been drawn to Bayonne by the novelty of 
these scenes. Napoleon and these Spaniards, disregarding 
the forced abdication, received Charles TV. as king, and 
Ferdinand simply as Prince of the Asturias. Both the 
king and queen took pains publicly to express their abhor- 
rence of their son. 

The proposition to resign the crown to Napoleon, says 
Thiers, " neither astonished nor afflicted them." They 
were well aware that it was in vain for them to think of 
retaining the throne. They were rejoiced to think that 
Ferdinand was not to have it. And they welcomed the 
prospect of relinquishing the cares and perplexities of sov- 
ereignty for a secure and princely retreat in France, where 
ample means would be placed at their disposal for the in- 
dulgence of all their tastes. With alacrity they yielded to 
Napoleon the crown, leaving it to his magnanimity to fur- 
nish them with a suitable indemnification. It seems, how- 
ever, that Ferdinand was not quite so willing to make the 
surrender. While the subject was in deliberation he sent 
out secret agents, who roused the peasants and the populace 
of Madrid into an insurrection against the French soldiers 
there, which was only quelled after much bloodshed. 

As soon as the tidings of this untoward event reached 
the Emperor he summoned the whole royal family of Spain 
to a personal interview, and communicated to them the in- 
telligence. The old king was greatly enraged against Fer- 
dinand. 

" See what you have done, sir !" exclaimed Charles IV. 
" The blood of my subjects has flowed, and the blood of the 
soldiers of my friend, my ally, the great Napoleon, has also 
been shed. See to what ravages you would expose Spain 



398 



ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



if we had to deal with a less generous conqueror ! It is 
you who have unchained the people, and there is no long- 
er a master over them to-day. Eestore that crown which 
is too weighty for you, and give it to him who alone is ca- 
pable of bearing it.'^ 

While thus speaking, the enraged monarch brandished 
his gold-headed cane over the head of his son, threatening 
him with personal violence. Louisa, the queen, was even 
more bitter and vengeful than her husband. She had a 



^^v^CVl^^i^j^^^S 




INTERVIEW WITH THE SPANISH PRINCES. 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 399 

marvellous command of vituperative language, and lavish- 
ed upon the prince the most vulgar epithets in the vo- 
cabulary of abuse. Ferdinand remained immovable, si- 
lent, as if stunned by these fierce invectives. His mother 
approached him with a menacing gesture as if she intended 
to box his ears. 

" Why do you not answer ?" she said. "Yes, I see that 
you are just what you have always been. Whenever your 
father and I wished to give you any exhortations for your 
own good, you held your tongue, and only replied by si- 
lence and hatred. Speak to your father, sir, to your moth- 
er, to our friend, our protector, the great Napoleon." 

Napoleon was greatly shocked and embarrassed by the 
revolting scene. As he left, he coldly remarked to Ferdi- 
nand that unless he immediately resigned all his claims to 
the crown to his father, he would be treated as a rebel who 
had entered into a conspiracy to deprive the legitimate sov- 
ereign of his crown. As Napoleon returned to the chateau 
of Marac, his mind engrossed with the painful scene which 
he had witnessed, he said to those around him, 

" What a mother ! what a son ! The Prince of Peace is 
certainly a very inferior person, but, after all, he is the least 
incompetent of this degenerate court. He proposed to 
them the only reasonable idea — an idea which might have 
led to great results had it been carried out with courage 
and resolution. It was this, to go and found a Spanish 
empire in America, there to save both the dynasty and 
the finest part of the patrimony of Charles Y. But they 
could do nothing that was noble or great. The old peo- 
ple by their want of energy, the son by his perfidy, have 
ruined this design." 

After prolonged remarks, characterized by that elo- 



400 KOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

quence which marked all his utterances, Napoleon add- 
ed: 

" What I am doing now is not good in a certain point of 
view. I know that well enough. But policy demands 
that I should not leave in my rear, and that, too, so near 
Paris, a dynasty inimical to mine." 

That evening Marshal Duroc concluded a treaty by 
which Charles lY. resigned the crown to Napoleon, upon 
the condition that the integrity of the soil of Spain should 
be preserved, that the Catholic religion should be exclu- 
sively maintained, and that Charles TV. should enjoy for 
his life the chateau and forests of Compeigne and the cha- 
teau of Chambord in perpetuity, together with an income 
for himself and court amounting to about one million nine 
hundred thousand dollars annually, to be paid by the 
treasury of France, with a proportionable revenue for all 
the princes of the royal family. 

Ferdinand now saw that it was in vain for him to make 
any further resistance. He accordingly, in his turn, signed 
a treaty by which he and his brothers, Carlos and Francis- 
co, renounced all their claims to the Spanish throne, in 
consideration of the chateau of Navarre being secured to 
him for his residence, "^th a net revenue of two hundred 
thousand dollars. Each of his brothers was to receive an 
annual income of eighty thousand dollars. 

Thus the throne of Spain passed temporarily from the 
House of Bourbon to the House of Bonaparte. " If the 
government I had established had remained," said Napo- 
leon to O'Meara, "it would have been the best thing which 
ever happened for Spain. I would have regenerated the 
Spaniards. I would have made them a great nation. In 
the place of a feeble, imbecile, superstitious race of Bour- 



CHARLES IV. AND MARIA LOUISA. 401 

bons, I would have^ven them a new dynasty, which 
would have no claims upon the nation except by the good 
it would have rendered unto it. I would have destroyed 
superstition* and priestcraft, and abolished the Inquisition 
and monasteries, and those lazy beasts of friars." 



402 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

m 



CHAPTER XIX. 

. THE EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 

(From 1808 A.D. to 1814 a.d.) 

Life at Valen^ay. — Letter from the Emperor to Talleyrand. — Proclamation to 
the Spanish People. — Interview between the Emperor and Joseph Bona- 
parte. — Restoration of Ferdinand. — Debasement of the Spanish People. — Des- 
potic Measures of Ferdinand. — Birth of Isabella and Louisa. — Death of Fer- 
dinand. — Civil War. — Reign of Isabella II. 

ON the ibth of May, 1808, Ferdinand, the Prince of 
the Asturias, and his two younger brothers, Carlos 
and Francisco, with their court, consisting of ten or twelve 
gentlemen and ladies, and about twenty-five servants, left 
Bayonne for the splendid retreat of Yalengay. To Talley- 
rand, Prince of Benevento, was assigned the task of receiv- 
ing Ferdinand and his associates at the chateau, and of see- 
ing that the provisions of the treaty, in the gratification of 
all their wishes, were faithfully observed. In a letter 
which Napoleon wrote to Talleyrand on the 19th of May, 
he said : 

" I desire that the princes be received without exter- 
nal pomp, but heartily and with sympathy, and that you 
do every thing in your power to amuse them. If you have 
a theatre at Yalengay, and can engage some comedians to 
come, it will not be a bad plan. You had better bring 
Madame de Talleyrand thither, and some four or five other 
ladies. If the Prince of the Asturias should fall in love 
with some pretty woman it would not be amiss, especially 
if we were sure of her. It is a matter of great importance 



EXILE AND KETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 40o 

to me that the Prince of the Asturias should not take any 
false step. I desii'e, therefore, that he be amused and occu- 
pied. Stern policy would demand that I should shut him 
up in Bilche or some other fortress ; but as he has thrown 
himself into my arms, and has promised to do nothing 
without my orders, and that every thing shall go on in 
Spain as I desire, I have adopted the plan of sending him 
to a country-seat, surrounding him with pleasure and sur- 
veillance. This will probably last through the month of 
May and a part of June, when the affairs of Spain ma}^ 
have taken a turn, and I shall then know what part to act." 

At the same time that the young princes left for Yalen- 
§ay, Charles, Louisa, and Godoy, with a congenial train of 
followers, retired to Compeigne. The impotent old king 
spent the remnant of his days chasing rabbits and foxes. 
For a time he sought the more congenial climate of Eome 
for his residence. In December, 1818, Queen Louisa died. 
A few weeks after this Charles followed her to the judg- 
ment-seat of God. He died in the year 1819, while on a 
visit to his brother the King of the Two Sicilies. 

In the castle of Yalengay, the three princes, Ferdinand, 
Carlos, and Francisco, revelled in every indulgence which 
wealth could confer. They were virtually prisoners, though 
bound by no chains which could be either seen or felt. 
Their obsequious attendants were also vigilant guards. 
As Napoleon could have no confidence in their plighted 
word, and as they could plausibly excuse themselves for 
breaking their treaty obligations on the ground that they 
had entered into those engagements under the influence of 
moral compulsion, any movement towards a return to Spain 
was carefully watched. 

Still it does not appear that they had any disposition to 



404 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

escape, or that they had any consciousness that they were 
not entirely free. They were more than contented with 
their inglorious but voluptuous lot. Their admiration of 
Napoleon, real or feigned, was such that they wrote him 
letters of congratulation upon his successive victories, and 
celebrated them by illuminations and bonfires at the 
expense' of the forests of Yalengay. Thus they con- 
tinued entirely absorbed in the pursuit of pleasure for five 
years. 

Immediately after the crown of Spain had, by these 
measures, passed into the hands of Napoleon, he wrote to 
his brother Joseph, then King of Naples, under date of 
May 11th, 1808 : 

" My Brother, — You will find annexed the letter of 
King Charles to the Prince of the Asturias, and a copy of 
my treaty with the king. King Charles starts in two days 
for Compeigne. The Prince of the Asturias is going towards 
Paris. King Charles, by his treaty with me, surrenders to 
me all his rights to the crown of Spain. The prince had 
already renounced his pretended title of king, the abdica- 
tion of King Charles in his favor having been involuntary. 
The nation, through the supreme council of Castile, asks 
me for a king. I destine this crown for you. Spain is a 
very different thing from Naples. It contains eleven mil- 
lions of inhabitants, and has more than one hundred and 
fifty millions of revenue, without counting the Indies and 
the immense revenue to be derived from them. It is, be- 
sides, a throne which places you at Madrid, at three days' 
journey from France, which borders the whole of one 
of its frontiers. At Madrid you are in France. Naples is 
the end of the world. I wish you, therefore, immediately 
upon the receipt of this letter, to appoint whom you please 



. EXILE AND EETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 405 

regent, and to come to Bayonne by the way of Turin, Mont 
Cenis, and Lyons." 

Four days after writing the above letter the Emperor, 
on the 25th of May, addressed the following proclamation 
to the Spanish people : 

" Spaniards ! After a long agony, your nation was on 
the point of perishing. I saw your miseries, and hastened 
to apply a remedy. Your grandeur, your power, form an 
integral part of my own. Your princes have ceded to me 
their rights to the crown of Spain. I have no wish to 
reign over your provinces, but I am desirous of acquiring 
eternal titles to the love and gratitude of your posterity. 
Your monarchy is old. My mission is to pour into its 
veins the blood of youth. I will ameliorate all your in- 
stitutions, and make you enjoy, if you second my efforts, 
the blessings of reform, without its collisions, its disorders, 
its convulsions. 

" I have convoked a general assembly of deputations 
of your provinces and cities. I am desirous of ascertaining 
your wants by personal intercourse. I will then lay aside 
all the titles I have acquired, and place your glorious crown 
on the head of my second self, after having secured for 
you a constitution which may establish the sacred and 
salutary authority of the sovereign, with the liberties and 
privileges of the people. Spaniards ! reflect on what your 
fathers were ; on what you now are. The fault does 
not lie in you, but in the constitution by which you have 
been governed. Conceive the most ardent hopes and con- 
fidence in the results of your present situation, for I 
wish that your latest posterity should preserve the recol- 
lection of me, and say, ' He was the regenerator of our coun- 
try: " 



406 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Joseph Bonaparte reached Bayonne on the 7th of June. 
It was with intense regret that he had received the sum- 
mons of the Emperor, for he was exceedingly reluctant to 
exchange the crown of Naples for that of Spain. The 
Emperor rode out to meet his brother, having the previous 
day proclaimed him King of Spain and of the Indies. He 
exerted his utmost powers of persuasion to induce his 
brother to accept the heavy burden of the Spanish crown. 
He represented to Joseph that the deadly quarrel in the 
royal family had precipitated a crisis which he would have 
gladly postponed ; that Charles lY. preferred to resign the 
throne and retire to France rather than to reign without 
Godoy ; and that both Charles and Louisa had much rather 
see a stranger on the throne than their hated son, Ferdi- 
nand ; that Charles TV. and Godoy were so unpopular that 
neither Ferdinand nor any other Spaniard wished them 
restored to the throne, and that it would be impossible to 
maintain them upon it; that Ferdinand was so imbecile 
and unreliable in character that he could not think of try- 
ing to force upon the Spanish people so unworthy a sove- 
reign ; that it would be derogatory to his own honor to 
attempt to maintain the claims of a son who had by vio- 
lence dethroned his father, attempting his life ; that no re- 
generation of Spain was possible under such a rule ; that a 
large assembly of the most influential men, convened in a 
National Congress at Baj^onne, were of Xhis opinion ; that 
this Congress was unanimous in the wish that Joseph 
should accept the crown, and that such, doubtless, would 
be the wish of the Spanish nation. He urged, moreover, 
that the Spanish princes had all ceded their rights to the 
crown to him, and had withdrawn to the palaces assigned 
to them in France, and that it was exceedingly important. 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 407 

both for the interests of France and Spain, that Joseph 
should immediately accept the Spanish crown. 

The Emperor and Joseph rode along on horseback side 
bj side, thus conversing, until they reached the chateau of 
Marac, the residence of Napoleon and Josephine. Here 
the Spanish Junta, or Congress, was assembled, and the 
body received Joseph as the sovereign of Spain. The 
Duke del Infantado and Don Pedro Cevallos, Spaniards 
of the highest distinction, who had been regarded as the 
warmest partisans of Ferdinand, had a long interview with 
Joseph. They made him a full oJ9fer of their services, .as- 
suring him that if he were destined to confer upon Spain 
the same blessings which he had conferred upon Naples, 
the whole nation would with enthusiasm rally around him. 
All the members of the Junta, nearly one hundred in num- 
ber, in succession called upon Joseph and addressed him in 
the same language. 

" In fact, the courtiers of the father' and of the son were 
united upon one point, the absolute impossibility of their 
living together under either of them. Joseph alone, by 
sacrificing the throne of Naples to ascend that of Spain, 
appeared to unite all parties, and promised, as they fondly 
hoped, to restore, and even to surpass the reign of Charles 
III. The assurance given by all the members of this Jun- 
ta, without a single exception, to Joseph, that his accept- 
ance of the crown would quiet the troubles, insure the 
independence of the monarchy, the integrity of its terri- 
tory, its liberty and happiness, finally induced him to ac- 
cept the throne, and he prepared himself to set out for 
Spain. But he would not leave the throne of Naples with- 
out obtaining a pledge that the free institutions he had 
introduced there should be preserved, and that the Nea- 



408 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

politans should enjoj the benefits of a constitution which 
was, in a great measure, a summary of his own most im- 
portant laws. A constitution, founded nearly on the same 
principles, was adopted by the Junta of Bayonne for Spain, 
and also guaranteed by the Emperor. Joseph and the 
members of the Junta swore fidelity to it. Had events 
permitted them to maintain their oaths, it would have con- 
tributed much to the regeneration of that people. The 
recognition of national sovereignty represented in the 
Cortes, the independence of their powers, the demarkation 
of the patrimony of the crown and the public treasure 
would have extricated Spain from the abyss into which 
she had been sinking for centuries. The accession of Jo- 
seph to the throne of Spain was notified by the Secretary 
of State, Don Pedro Cevallos, to the foreign powers, by all 
of whom, with the exception of England, he was formally 
recognized."^ 

We have not space here to enter into a detail of the 
Peninsular War which ensued. England, regarding Spain 
as the most favorable point upon which to attack Napo- 
leon, and resolved, at whatever expense of treasure and of 
blood, to force back upon both France and Spain the 
crushing tyranny of the old regime of the Bourbons, en- 
compassed the coasts of Spain with her fleets, inundated 
the peninsula with her armies, and lavished her gold in 
profusion, to rouse priests and peasants against the liberal 
government of Joseph. Her attempts were too successful. 
All Spain was soon involved in a desolating civil war. 
The ignorant populace, roused to frenzy by the priests, 
fought in advocacy of civil and religious despotism. The 
armies of Prance, which Napoleon had led to Eussia, were 

* EncyclopaBdia Americana, article Joseph Bonaparte. 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 409 

buried beneath the snows of the North. All the dynasties 
of Northern Europe rose against the republican empire. 
It was necessary for Napoleon to withdraw his best troops 
from Spain to meet the hosts pouring down upon France 
from the allied courts of despotism. The feeble remnants 
left behind in Spain struggled heroically against the vastly 
outnumbering armies of England, under the Duke of Wel- 
lington, aided by the aroused and infuriated peasantry of 
the peninsula. After many bloody battles, Joseph was 
driven across the Pyrenees into France. 

In December, 1814, Napoleon entered into a treaty with 
Ferdinand, called the treaty of Yalengay, by which the 
Spanish crown was restored to Ferdinand. The terms of 
this treaty prove the friendly relations which still existed 
between Ferdinand and the Emperor. The Spanish prince 
agreed immediately to expel the British troops from the 
kingdom, to respect the dominions of France and the rights 
of its flag, and that Port Mahon and Ceuta should never 
be ceded to Great Britain. He also agreed that Joseph 
Bonaparte should receive an annuity of one million five 
hundred thousand dollars, and the queen-dowager one mil- 
lion in case of her survivance. 

The British Cabinet was exceedingly chagrined by the 
terms of this treaty. Alison gives vent to his feelings in 
saying : *' Thus had Napoleon and Talleyrand the address, 
at the conclusion of a long and bloody war, in which their 
arms had been utterly and irretrievably overthrown, to 
procure from the monarch, whom they had retained so long 
in captivity, terms as favorable as they could possibly have 
expected from a long series of victories. And thus did 
the sovereign who had regained his liberty and his crown 
by the profuse shedding of English blood, make the first 

18 



410 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

use of his promised freedom to banish from his dominion 
the Allies whose swords had liberated him from prison and 
placed him on the throne." 

Indeed the Spaniards were far more ready to fraternize 
with the French than with the English. -The outrages 
perpetrated by the British troops were dreadful. The 
testimony of even the British officers upon this point is 
very explicit. . The Duke of Wellington professed to the 
Government his utter inability to maintain discipline. In 
one of his dispatches he writes : 

" I have long been of opinion that a British army could 
bear neither success nor failure, and I have had manifest 
proof of the truth of this opinion in the first of its branches, 
in the recent conduct of the soldiers of the army. They 
have plundered the country most terribly." 

Again he wrote to Lord Castlereagh on the 81st of 
May, 1809, "The army behave terribly ill. They are a 
rabble who can not bear success, any more than Sir John 
Moore's army could bear failure. I am endeavoring to 
tame them ; but if I should not succeed I must make an 
ofiicial complaint of them and send one or two corps 
of them home in disgrace. They plunder in all direc- 
tions." 

Three weeks after this he wrote again to Lord Castle- 
reagh, " I can not, with propriety, omit to draw your at- 
tention again to the state of discipline of the army. It is 
impossible to describe the irregularities and outrages com- 
mitted by the troops. Notwithstanding the pains I take, 
not a post or a courier comes in, not an officer arrives from 
the rear of the army that does not bring me accounts of 
outrages committed by the soldiers who have been left be- 
hind on the march. There is not an outrage of any de- 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 411 

scription wbicTi has not been committed on a people who 
have uniformly received us as friends." 

In Spain, as everywhere else, the British Government 
was consecrating all its energies to upholding the civil and 
religious despotisms of the old regimes. " The alliance," 
says the Encyclopaedia Britannica, " with the Spanish na- 
tion was proclaimed, and a struggle began which every 
one will admit to have led, as far as respected Spain, to 
nothing but evil." 

To restore the miserable Ferdinand to Spain, and with 
him the debasement, fanaticism, and unrelenting despotism 
of the old regime of the Spanish Bourbons, England ex- 
pended, on her own operations, five hundred million dol- 
lars. She also subsidized Spain and Portugal, supplying 
clothing, arms, and ammunition to both her armies, includ- 
ing even the guerrillas. From thirty to seventy thousand 
British troops were constantly employed, in addition to the 
numbers who manned the fleet, which was incessantly busy 
on the coasts. Forty thousand British troops perished in 
the conflict. 

Unfortunately in Spain the masses of the peasantry, en- 
tirely under the control of the priests, and ignorant and 
fanatical almost beyond conception, had no desire for either 
civil or religious liberty. While they hated the haughty, 
merciless, plundering British soldiers, all their enthusiasm 
was roused, to fight against the introduction of free institu- 
tions, by the cry that the Church was in danger. 

On the 20th of March, 1814, just ten days before the 
Allies entered Paris, Ferdinand returned to Spain. There 
was a small Liberal or Eepublican party, composed of very 
energetic men, and mainly confined to the great cities. 
The millions of the peasantry, who formed the great mass 



412 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of the people, and who were extremely ignorant, fanatical, 
and almost entirely in subjection to the priests, were mon- 
archists, ready at any moment to die for the king and the 
Church. 

The Liberals met, by their representatives, in a congress 
at Cadiz, and drew up a constitution, which was a great 
advance upon any degree of liberty which the Spaniards 
had enjoyed under their ancient kings. According to this 
liberal constitution, every man over twenty-five years of 
age, of whatever race or color, was entitled to vote. The 
Legislature was to consist of but one chamber — undoubted- 
ly a mistake. Every seventy thousand inhabitants were 
entitled to a representative. The king — for even the Lib- 
eral party was in favor of a constitutional monarchy, a 
throne surrounded by republican institutions — could twice 
veto a bill. If it passed a third time it became a law, not- 
withstanding his veto. The Cortes was to be elected every 
two years. No man could be elected twice. This was cer- 
tainly an unwise provision, depriving the Legislature of 
the benefits of that skill and wisdom which experience 
alone can give. 

This Congress was in session when Ferdinand returned. 
A decree was immediately passed, refusing to recognize 
him as king unless he first accepted the Constitution. 
Wellington, the firm advocate of aristocratic usurpation, 
was unrelentingly hostile to this liberal constitution. ''If 
the King should return," he wrote, "he will overturn the 
whole fabric, if he have any spirit." 

Thus had England restored what the British Grovern- 
ment termed liberty to Spain. Sir Walter Scott, speaking 
of the efforts of England in this struggle, writes: "The 
exertions of England were of a nature and upon a scale to 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 413 

surprise tlie world. It seemed as if her flag literally over- 
shadowed the whole, seas on the coasts of Italy, Spain, the 
Ionian Islands, and the Baltic Sea. Wherever there was 
the least show of resistance to the yoke of Bonaparte, the 
assistance of the English was appealed to, and was readily 
afforded. The general principle was indeed adopted that 
the expeditions of England should be directed where they 
could do the cause of Europe the most benefit, and the in- 
terests of Napoleon the greatest harm ; but still there re- 
mained a lurking wish that they could be so directed as to 
secure what was called a British object." 

" The assumption," says Eichard Cobden, a member of 
the British Parliament, "put forth that we were engaged 
in a strictly defensive war, is, I regret to say, historically 
untrue. If you examine the proofs as they exist in the 
■unchangeable public records, you will be satisfied of this. 
And let us not forget that our history will ultimately be 
submitted to the judgment of a tribunal over which Eng- 
lishmen will exercise no influence beyond that which is 
derived from the truth and justice of their cause, and from 
whose decision there will be no appeal." 

The nature of the liberty which England, at such an ex- 
penditure of blood and treasure, restored to Spain, may be 
inferred from the following incident : Some years after the 
Spanish Bourbons were firmly reseated upon the throne, 
the wife of an English clergyman, Eev. Dr. Thompson, 
agent of the British and Foreign Society at Madrid, sud- 
denly died in Madrid while her husband was absent from 
the city. As she was a member of the Episcopal Church, 
she was deemed a heretic, and it was with difficultv that 
her remains were allowed to be kept in the room of her 
hotel until they could be prepared for burial. No assist- 



414 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

ance could be obtained to dress the body for the grave. 
Mrs. Colonel Stepford, wife of an English of&cer who had 
long resided in Madrid, alone performed the sad duty. It 
was with the utmost difficulty that a grave could be ob- 
tained for the remains. All the consecrated burial-grounds 
were closed against them. . At length permission was ob- 
tained to bury the body on the premises in the obscure 
yard of a glass factory, which was owned by an English 
gentleman. Afterwards the owner, in selling the proper- 
ty, incurred a heavy loss in consequence of a heretic hav- 
ing been buried on the grounds. 

Ferdinand had spent several years, with his two younger 
brothers, Carlos and Francisco, in entire devotion to pleas- 
ure, in the luxurious chateau of Yalengay and in its spa- 
cious hunting-grounds. The armies of England, aided by 
the Spanish peasantry, having driven Joseph Bonaparte and 
the French troops from the peninsula, Napoleon was forced 
to restore the crown to Ferdinand. 

The Spanish Cortes, as we have mentioned, composed al- 
most exclusively of delegates from the cities, had formed a 
constitution highly democratic in its character.- This 
Cortes, reassembled at Madrid, refused to ratify the treaty 
into which Ferdinand had entered with Napoleon. They 
consequently did not advance to meet their returning sov- 
ereign, and manifested their displeasure by very decisive 
words and deeds. They loudly demanded that the king 
should accept the Constitution ; forbidding him, until he 
should do so, to adopt the title or exercise the functions of 
King of Spain. 

Ferdinand, wedded to the doctrine of absolute power, 
under these circumstances hesitated to trust himself with 
the Cortes ; and after having, by slow journeys, reached the 



EXILE AND EETUKN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 415 

provincial town of Yalencia, remained there for a whole 
month, fearing to proceed to Madrid. The Cortes, it is said, 
represented but about five hundred thousand persons, who, 
residing in the large cities, had adopted democratic princi- 
ples. The peasantry, numbering twelve millions, who were 
dispersed in the villages, were very unintelligent. Being 
almost entirely under the dominion of the priests, they were 
bitterly opposed to the Constitution. Strange as it may 
seem, the proof is unequivocal that they rallied around the 
king, received him with great enthusiasm, and clamored 
loudly for the re-establishment of the old regime of civil 
and ecclesiastical despotism. From the moment he entered 
the frontiers of Catalonia he was greeted with cries, in every 
town or village through which he passed, of " Down with 
the Cortes!" "Long live our absolute king!" Petitions 
were crowded upon him to reverse all the liberal decrees 
which had been enacted during his absence, and to reign in 
the spirit of his ancestors. It will be so difficult for an 
American reader to credit this that we give the statement 
of Alison, corroborated by abundant Spanish and French 
testimony : 

" The king was literally besieged with petitions, address- 
es, and memorials, in which he was supplicated, in the most 
earnest terms, to annul all that had been done during his 
captivity, and to reign as his ancestors had done before him. 
The Constitution was represented, and with truth, as the 
work of a mere revolutionary junta in Cadiz, in a great 
measure self-elected, and never convoked either from the 
whole country or according to the ancient Constitution 
of the kingdom. There was not a municipality which 
did not hold this language as he passed through their 
walls ; not a village which did not present to him a pe- 



416 . EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

tition, signed by the most respectable inhabitants, to the 
same effect. 

" The generals, the army, the garrisons besieged him 
with addresses of the same description. The minority of 
the Cortes, consisting of sixty-nine members, presented a 
supplication beseeching the king to annul the whole pro- 
ceedings of their body, and to reign as his" fathers had done. 
From one end of the kingdom to the other but one voice 
was heard — that of reprobation of the Cortes and of the 
Constitution, and prayers to the king to resume the unfet- 
tered functions of royalty." 

These voices were in entire harmony with the secret in- 
clinations of .the king. Accordingly, on the 4th of May, 
1814, he issued from Valencia a decree annulling every act 
of the Cortes, and restoring the government of absolute 
power to Spain. This decree was received with boundless 
enthusiasm. The advance from Valencia to Madrid was a 
continued triumph. The Cortes passed violent resolutions, 
and made a show of resistance. They sent out troops to 
oppose the approach of the king. These troops, instead of 
opposing Ferdinand, opened their ranks to receive him with 
shouts of " Long live our absolute king !" It is a sadden- 
ing thought that a whole nation may become so debased as 
to co-operate eagerly in riveting the chains with which they 
are bound. 

The Cortes, abandoned by all, fled in dismay across the 
country from Madrid to Cadiz. On the 13th of May the 
king entered Madrid in triumph. A cortege of over one 
hundred thousand persons crowded round him, filling the 
air with their acclamations. The few members of the Cortes 
who remained behind were arrested and thrown into prison. 
Ferdinand took his seat upon the throne of his Bourbon 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 417 

ancestors untrammelled by an 3^ constitution, and swaying 
the sceptre of absolute power. He was a very weak man, 
thoroughly depraved in heart and corrupt in life, with 
scarcely a redeeming quality. 

Ferdinand immediately fell under the influence of a co- 
terie of priests and nobles. Guided by their advice, it was 
his constant endeavor to restore every thing to the state of 
despotism existing before the revolution. He re-established 
the Inquisition^ and crushed every indication of popular lib- 
erty. These measures greatly alarmed and exasperated the 
Liberal party. The king met the risings of discontent by 
a decree threatening every person who should be found ei- 
ther speaking or acting against Ferdinand YII., with death 
within three days by sentence of court-martial. Under this 
decree ninety persons were arrested in the city of Madrid 
alone in one night. Every prison soon became crowded, 
and it was found necessary to convert the vast monastery 
of San Francisco into a prison to find room for the multi- 
tude who were arrested. 

On the 15th of September a decree was issued restoring 
the old feudal and seigniorial privileges which had been 
abolished. Every thing like free discussion was extin- 
guished. This led to the establishment of secret societies, 
and especially the order of Freemasons. The Inquisition 
issued a proclamation denouncing these societies. And 
now came judicial murders, insurrections, guerrilla warfare, ' 
and frightful reprisals. A large number of Liberals were 
arrested. After repeated trials the judges declared that 
there was no evidence against the accused sufficient to jus- 
tify their being condemned as traitors, or as persons excit- 
ing tumult or disturbances. The king, exasperated, order- 
ed the proceedings to be brought to him, and by the exercise 

18'^ 



418 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

of his own despotic power pronounced upon thirty-two of 
them sentences of the most cruel kind. One was sentenced 
to ten years' service as a common soldier. Another, Senor 
Arguelles, one of the most eloquent members of the Cortes, 
was doomed to eight years' service as a common soldier, in 
chains. 

The treasury was empty ; the country impoverished by 
many years of civil war ; robber bands were wandering 
everywhere ; all industry was stagnant. The wretched 
realm was in a state of barbarism. The clergy, though they 
had boundless influence over their flocks, had no armed force 
with which to resist the universal brigandage which swept 
the country. Terror rendered the king merciless. The 
discovery of a conspiracy in Madrid caused the arrest, in ev- 
ery city and almost every town in the kingdom, of all per- 
sons found meeting after ten o'clock at night. Many of 
these, most of them meinbers of the late Cortes, were im- 
prisoned at Ceuta, loaded with irons. At dead of night 
they were put on board of a zebecque to be conveyed to 
distant exile, no one knew where. To rivet the chains of 
religious intolerance the order of Jesuits was re-established, 
and they were intrusted with the entire education of the 
young, both male and female. 

Ferdinand, in previous years, when heir-apparent to the 
throne of Spain, had married, for his first wife, his cousin 
Maria, a princess of Kaples. She seems to have been a 
very lovely woman, gentle and affectionate. But her un- 
faithful, brutal husband led her a life of misery. After five 
years of suffering, during which, it is said, she often experi- 
enced the most coarse and vulgar abuse, she died, as was 
currently reported, of poison adminstered by her husband's 
hands. Ferdinand then applied to Napoleon for a wife 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 419 

from some member of the Bonaparte flimily. He was then 
striving to usurp the crown, and hoped thus to obtain the 
support of ISTapoleon. But as Charles IV., the nominal fa- 
ther of Ferdinand, wrote to Napoleon that his son had at- 
tempted the life of both his father and his mother, Napoleon 
decided that he could hardly recommend any of his nieces 
to marry the young man. Ferdinand, after having been 
eight years a widower, married his niece, Maria, daughter 
of the King of Portugal. At the same time his next young- 
er brother, Don Carlos, married the elder sister of Isabel, 
who was heir-presumptive to the crown of Portugal Fer- 
dinand hated his brother Carlos, and was very anxious to 
secure an heir which would prevent his brother's accession 
to the throne. 

In one year after her marriage Maria died childless, 
and Ferdinand hastily, a few months after her death, took 
another bride, marrying by proxy Maria Josephine Ame- 
lia, niece of the Elector of Saxony. In the mean time 
there were insurrections and executions innumerable. For 
ten years Maria Josephine endured her husband, and then 
she sank childless into the grave. Ferdinand was now 
forty-five years of age, a worn-out debauchee. He was 
annoyed extremely by the thought that, should he die 
without leaving an heir, the sceptre would pass into the 
hands of his hated brother Carlos. He therefore imme- 
diately sought another bride, Christina, a daughter of the 
King of Naples. She was a frivolous girl, apparently with- 
out conscience, but twenty years of age. Carlos and his 
party violently opposed this union. 

It is said that it was suggested to Christina by the min- 
isters of Ferdinand that a law higher than the claims of or- 
dinary morality required that she should produce an heir 



420 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOEY. 

to the throne. It is revolting to allude to these scenes of 
corruption. There was a private in the king's guard at 
Madrid by the name of Munoz. He was a very handsome 
young soldier, the son of a tobacconist. The queen adopt- 
ed Munoz as her favorite, lavished upon him wealth and 
titles of honor. The king's friends exulted greatly, and 
Carlos and his party were correspondingly dismayed when 
it was announced that Christina was about to become a 
mother. Should she give birth to a son, and should Fer- 
dinand die, Christina would be invested with the regency 
until her son attained his majority. But should a daughter 
be born, the crown would legally descend to Carlos; for 
there was a law, instituted nearly one hundred and fifty 
years before, which strictly excluded females from the 
crown. There was thus still a chance for Carlos. 

While all Spain was anxiously awaiting the issue, the 
Carlists were exasperated and dismayed by the promulga- 
tion of a royal decree transmitting the throne to females as 
well as males. It is said that Christina and her old father- 
confessor devised this scheme, to which they easily won 
over the imbecile and dying old king. Carlos and his 
friends were roused to the utmost intensity of rage. They 
declared that they would deluge Spain in the blood of civil 
war before they would submit to such an usurpation of 
power. At length, on the 10th of October, 1830, a daugh- 
ter was born, Isabella, the present ex-Queen of Spain. 

Some time before this Ferdinand had been compelled, 
by an insurrection in Madrid, to give an assent, though hyp- 
ocritical, to the Constitution. Carlos was in closest asso- 
ciation with the monks, and was regarded as the represent- 
ative of ultra-religious fanaticism. It does not appear 
that there was at that time any republican party. All 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 42 i 

were in favor of a monarchy, though a few wished for a 
constitutional monarchy, while the many seemed to desire 
the reign of an absolute king. Under these circumstances 
the Liberal party, who were to choose between Ferdinand 
and Carlos, rallied around the former, who had professed as- 
sent to the Constitution. This Liberal party, notwithstand- 
ing the serious doubts as to the legitimacy of the infant Is- 
abella, promptly recognized her claims to the crown. The 
Liberals, though few in number, consisted of energetic men, 
who enjoyed the advantage of being concentrated in the 
great cities. The Carlists were composed of the mass of 
the rural population. 

Both parties began to gather their strength for civil 
war tbe moment Ferdinand should die. He was very in- 
firm, trembling on the borders of the grave. He had ap- 
pointed Christina regent, and through all the provinces of 
Spain the forces were marshalling for the great conflict. 
But suddenly it was announced that Christina was about 
again to become a mother. Should a son be born, it would 
divest the Carlists of all claim whatever to the throne, un- 
less they should dispute the parentage of the child. A few 
months of intense excitement passed away, with hope upon 
one side and fear upon the other, when the queen gave birth 
to another daughter, Louisa. 

When Isabella was three years of age Ferdinand assem- 
bled the Cortes to take the oath of allegiance to her as 
their future sovereisrn. The Carlist members of the Cortes 
refused to heed the summons. It was the 30th of June, 
1833. The festival was one gf the most brilliant which 
Madrid had ever witnessed. The ancient forms and cus- 
toms of barbaric splendor were scrupulously revived, and a 
bull-fight was arranged, in the great Plaza of the city, of 



422 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

unprecedented magnificence. At night a blaze of light 
from every dwelling and every spire illumined the city 
with extraordinary brilliance. 

The babe Isabella was the prominent object in this 
scene of enchantment. As she gazed in childish wonder 
upon the display, and was almost stunned with the oaths 
of allegiance which rent the air when she was presented as 
the Queen of Spain, little could she imagine the woes which 
in consequence were to lacerate her heart, and the rivulets 
of blood of which she was to be the occasion. 

ISTot long after this the dying hour of Ferdinand came. 
It was one of the saddest and most humiliating scenes of 
earth. It has been described by an eye-witness. The pit- 
iable old man, arriving at the close of a joyless life of infa- 
my and oppression, trembled in view ot death, which he 
well knew was to plunge his country into all the horrors 
of civil war, and was to introduce him to the presence of 
that Judge from whose verdict there could be no appeal. 
Angry disputants were in the death-chamber, and their 
clamor blended with the groans of the dying. 

The crown was falling from the brow of Ferdinand, and 
enraged relatives were watching to grasp it. From words 
they proceeded to blows, knives gleamed in the chamber 
of death; they seized each other by the hair, and in the 
fierce struggle reeled to and fro against the couch and al- 
most upon, the body of the dying king. The poor old 
man, his eye already dimmed by the film of death, was be- 
wildered by the clamor, and groaned in irrepressible ago- 
ny. The noise of the brutal fight filled the palace, and 
others gathered to mingle in the fray. At length the 
combatants were separated, and most of them withdrew 
from the apartment. The king seemingly had fallen 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 428 

asleep. Some one approaches the bed. Ferdinand was 
dead ! 

His life of sin and shame was ended. He had gone to 
the Judgment. But he had sown the seeds of crime and 
woe, which would desolate the nation many long years af- 
ter his body should have mouldered to the dust. The 
death of Ferdinand was immediately followed by civil war, 
which burst forth with the utmost violence throughout the 
whole kingdom. By the decree of Ferdinand, Isabella was 
proclaimed queen, under the regency of Christina. We 
have not here space to describe the scenes of violence and 
misery which ensued. Year after year billows of flame and 
woe surged over ttie land. Cities were sacked, villages 
burned, harvests trampled beneath the conflict of armies, 
and the cry of the unprotected maiden, of the widow and 
the orphan, ascended unceasingly to the throne of God. 

Sometimes the troops of Carlos were victorious, and 
wreaked barbaric vengeance upon all the advocates of 
Christina. Again the troops of the regent Christina tri- 
umphed, and retaliated with direful reprisals upon their op- 
ponents. Thus for months and years the cruel war raged, 
and the peninsula was shrouded in woe. Spain seemed 
lapsing into barbarism. Education was neglected, industry 
perished, and bloodhound ferocity seemed to take posses- 
sion of all hearts. 

Foreign nations did not interfere, for they were divided 
in their sympathies. England and France gave their mor- 
al support to the regent Christina, as being the represent- 
ative of the more liberal party of the two, while Austria 
and the Pope were in sympathy with the ecclesiastical in- 
tolerance which Don Carlos represented. Christina, anx- 
ious to secure the military support of France, made formal 



424 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

proposals to Louis Philippe for the double marriage of her 
two daughters, Isabella and Louisa, the first to the Duke 
d' Aumale, the third son of the King of the French, and the 
other to the Duke of Montpensier, his fourth son. Neither 
of the young princesses were then of marriageable age. 
But this proposition brought into prominence the question 
of the " Spanish Marriages," which soon agitated all the 
courts of Europe, and which for a time threatened to bring 
on a general war. 

Louis Philippe, well aware that the other courts, and par- 
ticularly the Cabinet of London, would not consent to so 
intimate an alliance between France and Spain as Christiua 
had proposed, which would virtually make the two king- 
doms one, courteously declined the hand of Isabella for 
the Duke d' Aumale, but accepted the hand of Louisa for 
the Duke of Montpensier, The English Cabinet was at 
this time understood to be intriguing for the marriage of 
Isabella with Prince Coburg, a cousin of Prince Albert. It 
ought, however, to be stated that this was denied by the 
British €rovernment. Sir Robert Peel stated in Parliament 
on the 19th of January, 1847 : " I shall content myself with 
making one observation : that the last Cabinet, as long as 
they were in power, never made any attempt to obtain for 
a prince of the House of Saxe-Coburg the hand of the Queen 
of Spain." This denial was regarded by France as a diplo- 
matic falsehood. During the vicissitudes of the war Chris- 
tina was at one time driven out of Spain, and took refuge 
in Paris. Louis Philippe then embraced the opportunity 
to recommend to the queen-regent the marriage of Isabella 
with one of her cousins, a son of Ferdinand's younger broth- 
er, Francisco. " The object of this proposal," says Sir 
Archibald Alison, " was to exclude the pretensions of Prince 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 425 

Coburg, and at the same time to avoid exciting the jealousy 
of the British Government by openly courting the alliance 
for a French prince." 

Francisco had two sons, both of them very worthless 
young men. Enrique, the elder, was coarse, brutal, an 
avowed atheist, but endowed with much energy of charac- 
ter. Francisco is represented as imbecile, besotted, and very 
repulsive in person. It is not probable that Louis Philippe 
was acquainted with the character of either of the young 
men. He was regarding only the political aspects of the 
question. 

Such was the state of affairs when, in the autumn of 
1842, Queen Victoria paid a friendly visit to the King of 
the French at the Chateau d'Eau in Normandy, which visit 
Louis Philippe, a few months after, returned, being received 
by the queen with royal magnificence in the halls ot Wind- 
sor. In these interviews between the two courts the ques- 
tion of the Spanish Marriages was earnestly canvassed. It 
was evident that the French monarch was anxious to secure 
as close an alliance as possible with Spain. It was also 
clear that the English Cabinet would not assent to any ar- 
rangement which would place the resources of the Spanish 
monarchy at the disposal of the King of France. 

A compromise was finally effected through the agency 
of Lord Aberdeen and M. Guizot. It was agreed that 
Louis Philippe should renounce all pretensions on the part 
of any of his sons to the hand of Isabella ; and that the 
Duke of Montpensier should not marry Louisa until after 
the queen, Isabella, was married and had borne children. 
This was to prevent the Spanish crown from passing to the 
heirs of Louis Philippe. England agreed not to advance 
or to support the claims of the Prince of Saxe-Coburg. 



426 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY 

And both parties pledged themselves to urge that Isabella 
should choose her husband from among the descendants of 
Philip Y., which under the then existing circumstances 
meant one of the two sons of Francisco. 

Such an arrangement seems extraordinarily loose for 
national diplomacy. But the testimony of both parties is 
decisive upon this point. M. Guizot, the Minister of Louis 
Philippe, writes : 

" As to the marriage of the Queen of Spain in particu- 
lar, the king had acted, from the opening of that question, 
with frankness and disinterestedness. He declared that he 
would neither seek nor accept that union for any of the 
princes, his sons ; and that as to Princess Louisa he would 
not seek her for his son, the Duke of Montpensier, until 
the queen should be married and should have children. 
{Que lorsque la reine seraitmariee et aurait des enftins.y^ 

In accordance with these stipulations Christina endeav- 
ored to induce her daughter Isabella to accept one of her 
cousins, Enrique or Francisco. It appears, however, that 
Isabella, who had grown up to be any thing but a gentle 
and pliant maiden, had a will of her own. She disliked 
both of her cousins, and strenuously refused to take either 
of them for her husband. Christina was much annoyed by 
the stubbornness of Isabella. She hoped, by promoting 
this marriage, to secure for herself and her child the moral 
if not the material support of both France and England. 
Civil war was still desolating Spain. The parties were too 
equally divided to hope for any speedy termination of the 
conflict. The Cortes urged Christina to press forward the 
marriage of Isabella. Louisa was betrothed to the Duke 
of Montpensier. But, as we have stated, her marriage 
could not take place until very considerable time after the 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 427 

marriage of Isabella. The Cortes placed the child-queen 
upon the throne in November, 1843. She was then thir- 
teen years of age. Narvaez was military dictator, and in 
conjunction with Christina administered whatever there 
was of government in a realm ravaged by civil war. 

Christina decided to attempt to secure the support of 
England by offering Isabella, and of course with her the 
crown, to the Prince of Saxe - Coburg. England was 
pledged to Louis Philippe not to favor this union. The 
French annalists say — and there is but little doubt that 
they say truly — that Christina made this proposal at the 
suggestion of Sir Henry Bulwer, the British ambassador 
then at Madrid. A very angry controversy arose between 
the Courts of France and England. The Cabinet of St. 
James denied that it had exerted any agency in the matter. 
Louis Philippe, apprehensive . that England might suc- 
ceed in securing Isabella for the Prince of Saxe-Coburg, 
urged Christina to press forward immediately the marriage 
of the young queen with the youngest son of her uncle, 
Francisco. The young man was then called the Duke of 
Cadiz. Louis Philippe also resolved, without waiting, ac- 
cording to his agreement, for the marriage, etc., of Isabella, 
to have the nuptials of the Duke of Montpensier with 
Louisa celebrated at the same time with those of the j^oung 
queen. This plan was carried into effect. The feeling 
which was aroused in England by this measure may be in- 
ferred from the following remarks of Sir Archibald Ali- 
son : 

" Thus was the entente cordiale between the govern- 
ments of France and England, so essential to the peace and 
independence of Europe, broken up — and broken up in 
such a way, and on such a question, that reconciliation be- 



428 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

tween the parties was rendered impossible. Not only were 
national interests of the most important kind brought into 
collision, and national rivalries of the keenest sort awaken- 
ed, but with these were mingled the indignation at broken 
faith, the soreness at overreached diplomacy. One chorus 
of indignation burst from the whole English press at this 
alleged breach of faith on the part of Louis Philippe, and 
the violation of the royal word, pledged to Queen Victoria, 
amidst the festivities of the Chateau d'Bau and Windsor 
Castle." . 

We have alluded to the repugnance of Isabella to ac- 
cept either of her cousins for a husband. Francisco was 
peculiarly obnoxious to her. His feeble mind, squeaking 
voice, and repulsive person excited her contempt. But it 
was decided that Francisco was the one she must have ; 
probably because Christing,, with her ministers, could more 
easily mould him to their will. 

It is said that one night the unnatural mother, aided by 
one of her crafty ministers, took the child of sixteen into 
an inner chamber of the palace to constrain her consent. 
The task was a hard one. Isabella was masculine and 
rugged in her person, and very inflexible in her determina- 
tions. Tears, bribes, flattery, menaces, were all for a time 
tried in vain. Hour after hour passed away as the resolute 
maiden resisted the expostulations and solicitations of her 
mother and the minister until the day dawned. Then, 
overpowered, exhausted, despairing, she yielded, sullenly 
submitting to the outrage. Her mother, fearing lest she 
might change her mind, made arrangements to have the 
marriage consummated as soon as possible. The death of 
Isabella without issue would transfer the crown to Louisa. 
And it is even reported loudly that Francisco was known 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 429 

to hQ physically imbecile^ and that this consideration led the 
friends of the French alliance to urge the marriage. 

The friends of Don Carlos were bitterly opposed to the 
marriage of Louisa with the Duke of Montpensier. The 
national pride of the Spaniards revolted at the thought of 
having a French prince come so near to the throne. 
There was great danger that the Duke of Montpensier 
would be waylaid and assassinated on his way to Madrid. 
It was, therefore, not deemed safe for him to cross the fron- 
tier unless accompanied by a strong armed retinue. Two 
thousand steel-clad dragoons composed his escort. Like 
the rush of the whirlwind they swept over the hills and 
vales. Both the princesses were married at the same time 
in October, 1846. After a hurried wedding, and a still 
more hurried marriage - feast, the maiden Louisa, fourteen 
years of age, was borne in triumph, as the Duchess of 
Montpensier, to Paris, where she was received with the 
warmest congratulations by the family of Louis Philippe. 

A writer in Blackwood's Magazine alludes to these two 
marriages in terms which very clearly reveal the excite- 
ment they at that time created : 

" With Louisa less trouble was requisite. It needed no 
great persuasive art to induce a child of fourteen to accept 
a husband as willingly as she would have done a doll. 
Availing himself of the moment when the legislative 
chambers of England, France, and Spain had suspended 
their sittings — although, as regards those of the latter coun- 
try, this mattered little, composed as they are of venal hire- 
lings — the French king achieved his grand stroke of policy, 
the project on which there can be little doubt his eyes had 
for years been fixed. His load of promises and pledges, 
whether contracted at Eau or elsewhere, encumbered him 



430 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOEY. 

little. They were a fragile commodity, a brittle merchan- 
dise, more for show than use, easily hurled down and bro- 
ken. 

" Striding over their shivered fragments, the Napoleon 
of Peace bore his last unmarried son to the goal long mark- 
ed out by the paternal ambition. The consequences of the 
successful race troubled him little. What cared he for of- 
fending a powerful ally and personal friend? The arch- 
schemer made light of the fury of Spain, of the discontent 
of England, of the opinion of Europe. He paused not to 
reflect how far his Machiavelian policy would degrade him 
in the eyes of many with whom he had previously passed 
for wise and good, as well as shrewd and far-sighted. Par- 
amount to these considerations was the gratification of 
dynastic ambition. For that he broke his plighted word, 
and sacrificed the good understanding between the Gov- 
ernments of the two great countries." 

The same writer, speaking of Francisco, the husband of 
Isabella, says : 

" We have already intimated that as a Spanish Bour- 
bon he may pass muster. 'Tis saying very little. A more 
pitiful race than these same Bourbons of Spain surely the 
sun never shone ' upon. In vain does one seek among 
them a name worthy of respect. What a list to cull from ! 
The feeble and imbecile Charles TV. ; Ferdinand the cruel, 
treacherous, tyrannical, and profligate ; Carlos the bigot 
and the hypocrite ; Francisco the incapable. Certainly 
Don Francisco is no favorable specimen either morally or 
physically of the young Bourbon blood. For the sake of 
the country whose queen is his wife, we would gladly think- 
well of him ; gladly recognize in him qualities worthy of 
the descendant of a line of kings. It is impossible to do 



EXILE AND RETURN OF THE SPANISH COURT. 431 

SO. The evidence is too strong the other way. He ac- 
cepted the hand reluctantly placed in his, became a king 
by title, but remained, what he ever must be in reality, a 
zero." 

Of course such a wedding, with such characters, could 
lead to nothing but crime and misery. Isabella, the repu- 
ted child of ignominy, reared in the midst of the corrup- 
tions of the most corrupt court in Europe, has developed 
the character which would naturally be created by such 
influences. Louisa was far the more beautiful of the two 
daughters. Introduced at so early an age into the family 
and court of Louis Philippe, where the purest morals pre- 
vailed, she has developed into a very worthy and attractive 
woman. 

Not a year elapsed after this ill-assorted match between 
Isabella and Francisco ere all Europe, was filled with ru- 
mors of their quarrels. A divorce was openly talked of 
on the ground of Francisco's alleged physical incompetency, 
which, according to the civil but not the canon law, render- 
ed the marriage null from the beginning. It is not strange 
that Isabella, reared under such influences, should have de- 
veloped a character repulsive in the extreme. Despising 
her husband, having been forced to marry him, she seems 
to have paid no regard to her compulsory nuptial vows, 
and imitating the example of her mother and her grand- 
mother, has rendered the court of Spain, according to gen- 
eral repute, the most corrupt in Europe. 



432 • ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE REVOLUTION. 

(From 1839 A.D. to 1868 a.d,) 

The Royal Family. — Inglorious Reign of Isabella II. — Revolutionary Attempts, 
— Political Parties. — Banishment of the Duke and Duchess of Montpensier. — 
Increasing Discontent. — Retirement of the Court to San Sebastian. — The 
Insurrection. — Flight of the Queen. — The Provisory Government. — Argu- 
ments for the Monarchy. — The Constituent Assembly. — The Vote. — Testi- 
mony of General Dix. — Spirit of the new Constitution. — Difficulties of the 
Patriots. — The Struggles of Humanity. 

AN intelligent English traveller visiting Spain some 
years ago, gave the following account of the appear- 
ance of the royal family at that time. It was just before 
the marriage of Isabella and Louisa. 

'' This being Sunday, I had an excellent opportunity of 
seeing the royal family of Spain at their devotions. The 
royal chapel in the palace is open to the public, and I en- 
tered, without question, shortly after noon. The service 
commenced at one o'clock. A few moments before that 
hour, Christina and her two daughters, Isabella and Louisa, 
entered the small royal chamber in front of the altar, and 
immediately knelt down to take part in the service. All 
three were dressed in black, and wore nothing upon the 
head but mantillas. 

" Queen Isabella is grown a little taller and much plump- 
er. In fact she inclines so much to embonpoint that I should 
not be surprised if, in the course of a few years, she should 
rival Donna Maria of Portugal. Ever since her infancy 



THE REVOLUTION. 433 

Isabella's gait has partaken a good deal of an ungainly 
waddle, a common failing among the Spanish Bourbons. 
And now that she manifests so strong a tendency towards 
corpulency, her dancing is not the most pleasing spectacle. 
Thus at the court ball, when Francisco danced with her, 
she astonished the spectators with something like elephan- 
tine gambolliugs. 

" Her face is not improved, the lower parts presenting a 
still more marked resemblance to the portraits of Ferdinand 
VII. Her eyes are of a bright color, and not unpleasing. 
The contour of her face is perfectly round, and, with rather 
a sharp nose, gives her something of the aspect of those 
physiognomies which decorate ancient china tea-cups. The 
mantilla, however, became her well ; I think better than 
the Parisian bonnet and mignon parasol which she sports 
in her carriage on the Prado. Queen Isabella is by no 
means deficient in ability, being endowed with a prodig- 
ious memory — with a deal of canning at least, if not of 
judgment. She is likewise fond of raillery, and has a good 
deal of sarcastic wit, with which she peppers her amanti^ 
Don Francisco, considerably. I am assured that, with all 
her defects, she is high-minded and queenly, and has man}^ 
noble qualities ; and I trust she may develop them pro- 
gressively,- as she grows older, for the welfare and prospei'- 
ity of Spain. 

" Her sister does not improve in appearance as she grows 
up. Her infantine graces have merged somewhat into 
coarseness, but she may still be almost regarded as beauti- 
ful. Her features, like her mother's, are longer and more 
Italian than her sister's, and her complexion purer. Her 
grace of attitude and movement is remarkable, a quality 
which she inherits exclusively from Christina. She is cer- 

IP 



434 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTOEY. 

tainlj a charming young person, and looks wonderfully 
well in her dark crape dress and mantilla. She was born 
on the 80th of January, 1832. Whether Montpensier lose 
the inheritance of Spain or not, he will have found in her 
an enchanting wife, and France a princess who will look to 
advantage even by the side of De Joinville's Brazilian 
beauty. It is commonly reported that there is no Bourbon 
blood in Louisa's veins. She is probably the daughter of 
Montez. 

" Christina, who seemed even to outdo her daughters in 
devotion, and who joined in the service with much fervor, 
is evidently breaking up. Her face is beginning to wear a 
somewhat haggard expression, and her figure to lose its 
graceful and rounded contour. The unremitting toils of 
intrigue have stolen on her nocturnal hours, and the atmos- 
phere of political manoeuvre, out of which she can not 
exist, has paled the roses which once adorned her cheeks, 
and cast a deeper shade upon her brow." 

Should Isabella die without offspring, the crown of Spain 
would pass by legitimate descent to Louisa, the Duchess of 
Montpensier. France, of course, espoused the cause of Isa- 
bella. England also, for state reasons, advocated her claims. 
Sustained by the armed intervention of these powers, the 
banners of Isabella so gained that finally the partisans of 
Don Carlos became disheartened. Several of the chiefs of 
the two parties met in conference, and the Carlist chieftains 
gave in their submission to Isabella II. 

This was in 1839, During the years which have since 
passed, Spain has for most of the time reposed in the stag- 
nation of absolutism. The few feeble, spasmodic efforts 
which have been made to throw off the chains of despotism 
have been unavailing. The people, as a body, had become 



THE REVOLUTION. 435 

SO degraded that they showed no wish to escape from their 
inglorious lot. In the year 1848, when a general democratic 
uprising agitated all the thrones of Europe, a slight move- 
ment was manifested in Madrid, Seville, and other of the 
principal cities of Spain in behalf of liberty. But on the 
part of the majority of the people there was no response to 
the call. 

In the year 1854 another feeble attempt was made to 
throw off the yoke of despotism. But there was no general 
uprising, no true bond of union among those who did rise, 
no feasible and enlightened plan for building up a new edi- 
fice after tearing down the old one. With but little diffi- 
culty the Government crushed this movement. 

Fourteen years more passed away. In the mean time 
Isabella had added none to the number of her friends, and 
had been rapidly multiplying her enemies. Those who had 
rallied around her in her childhood had given her the popu- 
lar name o^ Isabella the Innocent But youth and innocence 
had disappeared. She was now called Isabella the Obstinate. 
ISTo pleasant stories were circulated of her amiability, her 
tenderness, her generosity. The traits she developed were 
masculine and repulsive. There was not a bolder rider 
among all her grenadiers. Her favorite amusements were 
shooting, fishing and hunting. She was foremost in the 
pursuit of the boar and the stag, and was delighted when 
she succeeded in wounding the animal with her own 
weapon. With her brawny arms she could drive, four in 
hand, with a skill which might excite the envy of the most 
accomplished coachman. An ungovernable horse threw 
his rider, an officer, and killed him. Isabella, it is reported, 
ordered the horse to be brought into the courtyard, mount- 
ed him, and scourged him into submission. As she alighted 



436 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

she said coolly, " The animal is well enough. The officer 
deserved to be killed. He did not know how to ride." 
Such was the reputation of Isabella, and such the reports 
circulated in reference to her. In fact she became a practi- 
cal illustration of woman's right to be a man. Unfortunate- 
ly man has imbibed the opinion that such a woman forfeits 
all claim to his chivalric devotion, and that he has a right 
to treat her as he would any male cavalier, whiskered and 
bearded. * 

Isabella was thus left with but few friends except the 
dissolute courtiers who were the inmates of the palace. Her 
unblushing immoralities alienated the better ^art of the clergy. 
Her haughty airs and her ingratitude repelled those who 
would gladly have rallied around her banners. She had 
no personal popularity. Still the masses of the people 
were contented with the civil and ecclesiastical servitude 
which marked her reign. The peasants were governed by 
the priests, and the priests by the Pope. Both Pope and 
priests were opposed to any change in the line of civil and 
religious liberty, for such a change imperilled the domina- 
tion of the Catholic Church. 

While affairs were in this condition, the Duke of Mont- 
pensier was residing, with his irreproachable bride, Louisa, 
in the palace of St. Telmo, at Seville. He strongly disap- 
proved of the conduct of Isabella, and of the political meas- 
ures she was pursuing. There was consequently ever-in- 
creasing alienation between the. court at Madrid and the in- 
mates of the ducal palace at Seville. 

The Duchess of Montpensier visited her sister, and in- 
formed her, it is reported, very frankly that neither she nor 
her husband could approve of the measures of the Govern- 
ment ; that they clearly foresaw that a catastrophe was ap- 



THE REVOLUTION. 437 

proacbing; that they would not exert any influence against 
her, but that, should the throne be overturned, they could 
not recognize either of her children as the direct heir to 
the throne. 

This was surely a singular communication for one sister 
to make to another. The queen's eldest living child was 
a daughter, Maria Isabella, who was married to Count Gir- 
genti, a JSTeapolitan noble. Her son, Alfonso, was about 
eleven years of age. Isabella was, of course, very angry 
with Louisa. She informed her sister that she might pro- 
long her visit to the court at Madrid so long as she saw fit 
to do so, provided that she made no allusion again to politi- 
cal affairs. 

There were three parties in Spain, small in numbers, and 
confined almost exclusively to the great cities, who were 
restless, and in favor of change. One of these parties was 
composed of those called Kadical Democrats. They were 
in favor of the entire reorganization of society upon the 
basis of the repudiation of all religion, of the family re- 
lation, and of private property. Another party desired 
what they called a moderate republic, where there should 
be a strong government, guarding liberty by efficient law. 
Still another wished to maintain the ancient monarchy, but 
to imbue it with the spirit of constitutional reform. These 
three parties, when united, composed but a small minority 
of the masses of the people, who, imbruted by ignorance, 
had no desire for change. 

The priests generally, as we have said, were afraid even 
of any reform. They knew not how far it might go. It 
might introduce free schools, free speech, a free press, free- 
dom of conscience, and freedom of worship. The very 
idea of a republic they detested. With the cry that the 



438 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Ohurcli was in danger thej could rouse the blind fury of 
fanatical millions. Thus the embarrassments in the way 
of reform seemed to be insuperable. The queen, however, 
was alarmed. She feared that a sudden insurrection in the 
streets of Madrid might wrest the crown from her brow 
and place it upon the head of her sister Louisa. 

The queen, under these circumstances, decided to strike 
what she deemed an effective blow. She issued, early in 
July, 1868, a decree banishing from Spain eight illustrious 
Spaniards, who were supposed to have great influence with 
the Liberal party. At the same time she ordered into exile 
the Duke and Duchess of Montpensier. This roused great 
indignation, not among the millions of the peasantry, but 
among the few thousands of the Progressionists in the 
cities. It also forced the discordant opposition into united 
action. It was decided by the leaders to combine their 
energies to overthrow the government of the queen, and 
then to deliberate upon the form of government which 
should take its place. This was a hazardous step, as it im- 
perilled the introduction of anarchy. 

It was not even alleged that the Duke and Duchess of 
Montpensier had entered into any plot against the crown, 
though manifestly their presence and popularity were an 
encouragement to the disaffected. It was evident that 
they would prove very available candidates for the vacant 
throne, should the queen be driven from it. The oppo- 
sition, if successful in a revolutionary movement, would be 
very likely to rally upon them. It was almost certain that 
Spain would not renounce its monarchy. And it was obvi- 
ous to most reflecting men that the high-minded, liberally- 
disposed Duke of Montpensier would be a very prominent 
candidate for the crown. His liberal political views would 



THE REVOLUTION. 489 

conciliate the Progressionists. The Bourbon blood which 
flowed in his veins and his alliance with the sister of the 
queen, who claimed heirship to the crown, would in a meas- 
ure reconcile the advocates of the old regime. He was 
also decidedly, though liberally, a Catholic, and this would 
tend to reconcile the Church. 

It is said the ofi&cers who, in obedience to the decree of 
exile, conveyed the duke and duchess to Lisbon, pledged 
themselves immediately to espouse his cause if he would 
allow his banner to be unfurled. Many of the exiled gen- 
erals and statesmen were sent to the Canary Islands. Here 
they were so near to Spain that they were still consulted 
upon all important measures.^ 

Affairs daily grew more menacing. The queen with 
her dissolute and voluptuous band of courtiers was left al- 
most without support. The court was afraid to remain in 
Madrid, where so many of the restless spirits in the realm 
were congregated. Several prominent ofl&cers in the army 
and the state resigned their commissions. On the 15th of 
August, 1868, the court repaired to San Sebastian, on the 
extreme northern frontier of Spain. The assigned reason 
was to visit the baths there for the sake of the queen's 
health. The real reason was to get away from Madrid, and 
to seek counsel and aid from the Emperor of France. The 
Emperor and Empress of France were about to visit Biar- 
ritz, not far from Bayonne. Isabella, much deceived as to 
the true state of affairs, imagined that the friends of the 
Duke of Montpensier were intriguing against her, and that 
his influence was all that she had to fear. And she had 
adopted the erroneous idea that the French Emperor would 

^ Serrano, Dulce, and Caballera de Rodas were sent to the Canaries ; 
Echagne, Zabala, Ros de Olano, and Cordova were sent to the Bale'ares. 



4:4:0 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

be irreconcilably opposed to tbe occupation of the tbrone 
of Spain by a son of Louis Philippe. As her father, Ferdi- 
nand YII.j had sought the aid of Napoleon I. at Bayonne, 
so she had decided to make an appeal to Napoleon III. at 
Biarritz. 

But the Emperor, warned by the disasters which his 
uncle, Napoleon L, encountered, in his endeavors to regener- 
ate Spain, wished to avoid all entanglement in Spanish af- 
fairs. Isabella telegraphed impatiently to Paris to ascer- 
tain when the Emperor would leave for Biarritz. But Na^ 
poleon, perhaps wishing to avoid an interview, day after 
day postponed his journey. It was for the interests of 
France that there should be a stable government in Spain 
to develop its resources. There was nothing to be hoped 
for from the government of Isabella. France had nothing 
to fear from the Duke of Montpensier. It was the funda- 
mental principle of Napoleon's policy that the people, by 
the voice of universal suffrage, had a right to choose their 
own form of government atid their own rulers. Should 
the people of Spain choose the Duke of Montpensier for 
their king, France was ready to give him a cordial recog- 
nition. 

While the queen and her court were thus tarrying at 
San Sebastian, the conspiracy, which had widely spread 
among the of&cers of the army and the navy, developed 
itself in open insurrection at Cadiz on the morning of the 
18th of September, 1868. This city, the most democratic 
in Spain, is an important sea-port and naval depot at the 
southern extremity of the peninsula. The city was aroused 
by salvos of artillery from the squadron, which announced 
itself in insurrection. The garrison on shore, with answer- 
ing guns, and shout re-echoing shout, responded to the ap- 



THE REVOLUTION. 441 

peal from the ships. The populace of the city, with scarcely 
a dissenting voice, fraternized with the sailors and the sol- 
diers. The queen in her devotion to voluptuous indul- 
gence, had made so little preparation for such an event, 
that there was scarcely a sword drawn or a musket raised 
in her defense. There were a few conflicts, but they were 
trivial in importance. 

Four days before the outbreak a steamer had appeared, 
as the sun was going down, off the Canaries. It was com- 
manded by M. Adelard de Ayala, a gentleman highly dis- 
tinguished as a dramatic poet, as an eloquent speaker and 
writer, and as a deputy who had been exiled from Madrid 
in 1867, in consequence of his earnest protest against the 
violation of the constitution. There was probably an un- 
derstanding with the military authorities on the island ; for 
in the night the steamer took on board the exiled generals, 
leaving one behind who was sick, and on the morning of 
the 19th landed them at Cadiz, where they found the in- 
surrection accomplished. In the mean time General Prim 
had arrived from England and other leaders from other 
quarters. 

The insurrection was a military movement almost ex- 
clusively. The people had but little to do with it. At 
Seville and Malaga, the garrisons, upon receiving the tid- 
ings from Cadiz, immediately adopted the example of the 
troops there. The populace in these cities, very ignorant 
and unambitious, listlessly followed the lead of the army. 
Thus in a few days the insurrection had gained the most 
formidable position. It had a fleet, an army, able generals, 
arsenals, with arms and ammunition in abundance, fortresses, 
and three populous cities. These few generals, who had 
originated and carried out the movement thus far, were 

19* 



442 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

agreed only upon one point ; and that was the necessity of 
the overthrow of the wretched government of the queen. 
This being accomplished, they were then to decide what 
government should take its place. In the proclamations 
which the generals issued they said : 

"We desire only d, provisory government^ representing all 
the forces of the Grovernment, to secure order, and that uni- 
versal suffrage should lay the foundation of our social and 
political regeneration." 

The tidings of this insurrection created intense excite- 
ment at San Sebastian. The queen immediately appointed 
General Concha, president of the council, and sent him to 
Madrid with almost dictatorial powers. The council, which 
the queen had left in Madrid, in twenty minutes after hear- 
ing the tidings from Cadiz, had scattered and fled. With 
great vigor the insurgents availed themselves of the ad- 
vantages which they had already secured. Greneral Prim, 
with a few frigates, sailed along the eastern coasts of Spain, 
stopping at the important points — at Carthagena, Yalence, 
and Barcelona. Here the garrisons were all ready to give 
in their adhesion to the revolution, and the people, with 
more or of less alacrity, followed their lead. 

General Serrano remained in Andalusia, in command 
of the insurrectionary troops garrisoned at Cadiz and Se- 
ville. Aided by other influential generals, he organized a 
small army of about twelve thousand men and marched 
upon Cordova. There were none found to oppose his ban- 
ners. Almost without a struggle the whole of Southern 
Spain was gained over to the revolution. In the mean 
time the queen was at San Sebastian, trembling, vacillating, 
and doing nothing. 

For eight days General Concha,,the new president of the 



THE REVOLUTION. 443 

council, remained at Madrid, vainly exercisiag hi^ dicta- 
torial powers to organize a government which could pre- 
sent some show of resistance to the insiyjgents. But al- 
ready a revolutionary committee, called a junta, was estab- 
lished at Madrid. General Concha soon found himself 
compelled to enter into communications with these revo- 
lutionary chiefs, and by this recognition, became entangled 
in the movement. The queen was in great perplexity. 
Her best advisers — and they were very poor ones — had 
left her. It was perilous to go to Madrid, as she might fall 
into the hands of the revolutionists. General Concha urged 
that she should hasten to the capital, leaving her obnoxious 
court behind her. Isabella had a special favorite, without 
whom she would not go to Madrid. General Concha deem- 
ed it ruinous to her cause to have this favorite accompany 
her. 

The queen's whole force had dwindled down to a small 
military band of a few thousand men in the vicinity of 
Cordova. Though faithful to their colors, they were in- 
spired with no enthusiasm for the defense of the queen. 
The Marquis of Novaliches led them. General Pavia, with 
the revolutionary forces, encountered them on the banks 
of the Guadalquiver, a few leagues from Cordova. After 
a short but decisive battle, the queen's troops were utterly 
routed. The Marquis of Novaliches received a terrible 
wound. There was no longer any show of resistance. The 
revolution was accomplished. 

Thus the queen, after an inglorious, a shameful reign of 
thirty-four years, during which nothing had been done for 
the elevation of Spain, found that her throne had crumbled 
beneath her feet. Already in the streets of San Sebastian, 
the murmurs of the disaffected reached her ears. She was 



444 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

no longer queen, save to the few members of her Own 
household. There was no escape from captivity but by 
an immediate :^ght to France. Even her pretended per- 
sonal friends were now abandoning her, as she had no 
more favors to confer. 

Fortunately for Isabella, she was still immensely rich. 
Avarice had been one of her vices. With a small band 
of courtiers, some thirty or forty men and women, and. a 
vast accumulation of treasure, the queen crossed the Pyr- 
enees into the territory of France, and took refuge in the 
Chateau of Pau, which had been the cradle of the Bourbon 
race. General Concha fled from Madrid. A revolutiona- 
ry junta assumed power there, as did the same organization 
in all the leading cities of Spain. The Bourbon monarchy 
was overthrown. And now arose the agitating question 
What government shall succeed it? 

It will be perceived that this wonderful revolution was 
achieved almost exclusively by the army. . The army was 
controlled by a few leading men, and submissively follow- 
ed their orders. The vast majority of the benighted and 
enslaved people of Spain looked wonderingly on, and took 
no part in the movement. One after another these milita- 
ry leaders repaired to Madrid. Each one received an ova- 
tion. They were determined men, all of them, Grenerals 
Prim, Serrano, Topete, and Caballero de Kodas. The 
watchword which resounded through the streets was not 
''Down with the monarchy," or "Live the republic," but 
simply "Down with the Bourbons." The revolution was 
thus far only a protest against the unendurable absolutism 
of Isabella. All parties had united upon that point. 

A provisory government was soon organized to meet 
the emergencies of the passing hour, and to decide upon the 



THE REVOLUTION. 445 

governmental organization which Spain should adopt. In 
different portions of Spain there were a few bloody insur- 
rections where the antagonistic parties endeavored to gain 
the ascendency. There was one very serious conflict at 
Cadiz, and another at Malaga. In most of these cases the 
Monarchists threw the blame upon the Democrats, and the 
Democrats upon the Monarchists. In Burgos the govern- 
or endeavored to seize upon the treasures of the cathedral, 
in behalf of the revolutionists. The peasants fell upon 
him with true Spanish fury, and literally tore him to 
pieces. 

A very able writer upon this subject, in the Revue des 
Deux Mondes^ M. Charles de Mazade, says: "This revolu- 
tion, notwithstanding its appearance of force, contained 
within itself the elements of weakness. It was not the peo- 
ple who effected it. The people did not really show them- 
selves until it was finished. All other revolutions have 
made its generals or its marshals. This has made its own, 
and that is Prim. Serrano and Prim, were they co-oper- 
ating intelligently ? Had they long understood each oth- 
er? Which of the two would have the most ascendency 
over the army? This was the question. It is very cer- 
tain that without Prim and Serrano the revolution could 
not have taken place." 

The provisional government consisted at first of a small 
cabinet council composed of the leaders of the Monarchical, 
Eepublican, and Democratic parties. Even these parties 
had their subdivisions. The first step to be taken was to 
elect a Cortes, or Congress. It was promised that the na- 
tion should be appealed to, and that this Congress should 
be chosen by universal suffrage. But singularly enough 
the Monarchists and even the Absolutists were ready for 



446 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

this appeal. But the Eepublicans and the Democrats, con- 
scious that they were greatly in the minority, and fully 
aware of the influence of the priests over the peasantry, did 
not dare to submit to the whole people the question of 
choosing their own form of government. They even fear- 
ed that the people, by an overwhelming vote, might restore 
the old regime of absolutism; and it was morally certain 
that they would reject a republic and establish a monarchy. 
Thus they postponed the elections as long as possible. 

M. Olozaga, with great force of eloquence and power of 
argument, urged the example of 'France in the establish- 
ment of the Empire, and that the question should be im- 
mediately submitted to the direct vote of the whole people 
what the form of government should be. There was not a 
sane man in Spain who doubted that the result would be 
an overwhelming vote for a monarchy. The Democratic 
party was indignant at the proposition of submitting the 
question to universal suffrage, and declared it to be stealing 
a march upon them. In a Congress, however chosen, they 
had more chance of success, or at least of modifying the re- 
sult, than in an appeal to the whole people. They threat- 
ened to break the alliance. This would have magnified 
the danger of civil war. The idea, therefore, of an appeal 
to the popular vote was abandoned. 

It is said that there can be no question that had the 
Duke of Montpensier been in Spain at the time of the defeat 
of the Marquis of Novaliches, he would have been instant- 
ly proclaimed king by the victorious army, and would have 
been cordially accepted by the people. Conscientiously a 
Catholic, in accordance with the teachings of his revered 
father and mother, the ecclesiastics would have accepted 
him, in their dread of republicanism, which in Spain was 



THE REVOLUTION. 447 

decidedly infidel in its tendencies. As the duke had seen 
much of the world, had been schooled in adversity, and 
cherished enlarged and liberal views upon both political 
and religious questions, most of those who were in favor 
of a constitutional monarchy, and many who personally 
were in favor of a republic, would have sustained him as 
the best measure to be adopted under the circumstances. 

General Serrano, General Topete, M. Olozaga, all of 
whom were among the most prominent men in the revo- 
lution, were in principle very decided Monarchists, as the 
only form of government then adapted to the people of 
Spain, and in harmony with the surrounding institutions. 
Even General Prim, who theoretically perhaps was a stren- 
uous Kepublican, yielded to the idea of a monarchy, saying, 
" To establish a republic^ there must he Republicans.'''' Many 
even of the most distinguished Democrats, as M. Eivero, 
M. Christino Martos, M. Becerra, rallied around the mon- 
archy as a necessity of the moment. A parliamentary and 
constitutional monarchy, sanctioned by a national vote, 
would be a very decided step in the path of human rights. 
In the opinion of the great majority of the most sagacious 
men in Spain, it was as great a reform as Spain could, by any 
possibility, be then induced to accept. It would also, by its 
harmony with surrounding institutions, disarm Europe of 
hostility, and thus be a guaranty of external and internal 
peace. 

In the midst of these agitations, the Carlist party, which 
had so long deluged Spain in the blood of civil war, again 
came forward with its claims for the crown. Several other 
parties sprang up, each urging its candidate. One party 
brought forward Ferdinand of Portugal ; another, Prince 
Alfred of England; another, the Duke of Montpensier. 



448 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

Great wisdom and forbearance were requisite, in these per- 
ilous hours, to restrain these antagonisms from an appeal to 
arms. 

A radical Democrat is almost of necessity a very bold, 
energetic, self-reliant man. He is positive in his opinions, 
always armed, morally and physically, and ready for a 
conflict. The extreme Democratic party was small, con- 
fined to the cities ; and though it was able to make a loud 
noise, it was quite uninfluential in its assaults upon the 
Gribraltar rock of priestly fanaticism and popular super- 
stition. It was indeed so small that it could hardly be 
deemed a party in Spain ; it was rather a band of loud- talk- 
ing, impetuous young men, adopting all sorts of theories 
upon political and socialistic economies. Still these men 
were in earnest. Fearlessly they discussed all questions. 
It was certainly their professed aim to promote the public 
good. In the cities they could make their voices heard; 
but their influence did not reach the cottages of the peas- 
ants. They numbered some men very eminent as writers 
and declaimers. Prominent among these was M. Emilio 
Caster, formerly professor in the University of Madrid, and 
M. Margall, an eminent publicist. • 

At length a constituent assembly was chosen, consisting 
of about three hundred members. In the latter part of 
May, 1869, after long and stormy debates, the all-important 
question was taken respecting the form of government to 
be adopted. The subject was acted upon in two resolu- 
tions. The first was, " The sovereignty resides in the nation^ 
and from it all the powers proceed^ This was adopted by ac- 
clamation, there apparently not being a dissentient vote. 
That so enlightened a sentiment could have been adopted 
with suc^i unanimity by a Cortes in benighted Spain is ev- 



THE REVOLUTION. 449 

idence that liberal principles have made very decided prog- 
ress. Thus the old dogma of the divine right of kings, still 
so tenaciously held in certain parts of Europe, is probably 
banished forever from Spain. 

Then came up for action the proposition that " the form 
of government of the Spanish nation is the monarchy." The 
question was taken by calling the roll, each member re- 
sponding yea or nay. It was an imposing scene. In the 
midst of general silence and solemnity every deputy gave 
his vote in a clear, distinct voice. At the close of the vot- 
ing the secretary read the lists. There were two hundred 
and fourteen votes in favor of a monarchy, and seventy- one 
against it. Thus, by a majority of one hundred and forty- 
three votes, the elective Spanish monarchy was decreed. 
Yery many of the most ardent friends of liberal principles 
were in favor of this result. The arguments they presented 
have certainly much force. It was said — 

"1. Every body will admit that the majority of the Span- 
ish people are opposed to a republic, ^o force a republic 
upon a reluctant people would be as unjust as it would be 
impossible. 

" 2. Under monarchical forms, a government may be as 
free as under republican forms. We may call our govern- 
ment a monarchy. We may call our supreme executive, 
elected for life, King instead oi president ; and yet the gov- 
ernmental institutions may be devoted to liberty and 
equality. 

"3. Electing our king, and electing him to execute the 
constitution which we draw up, we may intrust him with 
just so much power as seems best to us. The Queen of 
England has less power than the President of the United 
States. 



450 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

" 4. Monarchical forms liave always prevailed in Spain. 
The people are accustomed to them, attached to them. It 
will be far more easy to imbue those forms with the spirit 
of liberty, than to introduce new names and new organiza- 
tions which will perplex and alarm the people. 

" 5. All the governments around us are monarchical in 
form. They will much more cheerfully assent to the prog- 
ress of free institutions in Spain, if we remain in external 
harmony with them, and cordially join their brotherhood. 
The ostentatious establishment of a republic might be re- 
garded by them in the light of a defiance, and would en- 
danger war, which, above all things, it is for our interests 
to avoid. 

'' 6. Our constitution will be elastic, so as to admit of re- 
forms and progress, as the people become more enlightened 
and prepared for enlargement of liberty. And thus we 
may legally, constitutionally, attain the great end sought, of 
national progression and power, without the horrors of 
bloody revolutions." 

It is not improbable that the course pursued by the Cortes 
is the wisest one. Spain has made an immense advance 
in the path of progress. She has taken as long a stride as 
it was perhaps possible for her to take under the circum- 
stances. Following the example of France, she is surround- 
ing a throne with republican institutions. Thus, like 
France, she may avoid the awful calamity of civil and for- 
eign wars, and advance rapidly in the career of material and 
moral prosperity. It is evident that the example of France 
is exerting a powerful influence npon leading minds in 
Spain. 

The United States ambassador at the Court of France, 
General John A. Dix, after two years and a half of resi- 



THE REVOLUTION. 451 

deuce in Paris, during which he became intimately ac- 
quainted with the Emperor and the workings of the Im- 
perial Government, gives the following account of the 
bloodless progress of liberty there. And it is understood 
that his views are in accord with those of the two preceding 
American ambassadors at the French court, as also of very 
many of the most distinguished residents of the United 
States in the French capital. 

On Tuesday evening, the first of June, 1869, a compli- 
mentary dinner was given by the American residents in 
Paris to General Dix, as he was about to surrender to the 
Honorable Mr. Washburne his ofiice as ambassador. Four 
hundred ladies and gentlemen were present. The eloquent 
speech which General Dix made on the occasion is fully 
reported in the Paris Continental Gazette of June 3d. In 
that speech General Dix, in the following terms, expresses 
his views of the workings of the Imperial Government : 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, — I can not sit down with- 
out saying a few words to you in regard to the Government 
under the protection of which you are living. Between 
France and the United States there has been, from the ear- 
liest period, a strong bond of affinity, which ought never to 
be broken. The advantages enjoyed in Paris by the Amer- 
ican colony, which has become so populous as almost to 
constitute a distinct feature in the physiognomy of the city, 
can be by none better appreciated than by ourselves. We 
are as completely under the protection of the Government 
as the citizens of France, and we are required to contribute 
nothing directly to its support. We are living without per- 
sonal taxation or exactions of any sort in this most magnifi- 
cent of modern capitals, full of objects of interest, abound- 
ing in all that gratify the taste, as well as in sources of sol- 



452 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

id information ; and these treasures of art and of knowledge 
are freely opened to our inspection and use. 

" JSTor is this all. We are invited to participate most 
liberally, far more liberally than in any other court in Eu- 
rope, in the hospitalities of the palace. I have myself, dur- 
ing the two years and a half of my service here, presented 
to their imperial majesties more than three hundred of our 
fellow-citizens of both sexes. And a much larger number, 
presented in former years, have, during the same period, 
shared the same courtesies. 

"With these associations of the past and the present, 
the prosperity of this great empire can not be a matter of 
indifference to us. And it speaks strongly in favor of the 
illustrious sovereign who, for the last twenty years, has 
held its destinies in his hands, that the condition of the 
people, materially and intellectually, has been constantly 
improving, and that the aggregate prosperity of the coun- 
try is greater perhaps, at the present moment, than at any 
former period. 

"It is worthy of remark, too, that the venerable leader 
of the opposition in the Corps Legislatif (M. Thiers), one of 
those remarkable men who leave the impress of their opin- 
ions on the age in which they live, recently declared that 
the Government, in many essential respects, was in a course 
of liberal progress. As you know, debates in that body 
on questions of public policy are unrestricted. They are 
reported with great accuracy, and promptly published in 
the of&cial journal and other newspaper presses. And 
thus the people of France are constantly advised of all 
that is said for or against the administrative measures 
which concern their interests. 

" In liberal views, and in that comprehensive forecast 



THE REVOLUTION. 453 

which shapes the policy of the present to meet the exi- 
gencies of the future, the Emperor seems to me to be de- 
cidedly in advance of his ministers, and even of the pop- 
ular body, chosen by universal suffrage to aid him in his 
legislative labors." 

Such is the testimony of a gentleman of the highest 
position and intelligence, an influential member of the 
Democratic party in the United States, and who, by a resi- 
dence of nearly three years in Paris as ambassador, has 
enjoyed the best possible opportunity of understanding the 
influence and tendencies of the government which France, 
with such singular unanimity, has adopted. 

It is not strange that this successful working of the 
Empire in France should have led many of the most zeal- 
ous advocates for reform in Spain to regard the Empire as 
essentially the model upon which to reorganize their gov- 
ernment. When the populace of Paris overthrew the 
throne of Charles X., and the bankers of the capital, con- 
trolling the Chamber of Deputies, established the throne 
of Louis Philippe, Lafayette said, in a voice which resound- 
ed throughout the whole civilized world, 

" Though I deem a republic, theoretically, the best form 
of government, still I am persuaded that we can not, at 
present, establish and maintain a republic in France. That 
which is necessary for France now is a throne, surrounded 
by republican institutions." 

If Lafayette, with his strong republican predilections, 
deemed monarchical forms essential to France, the opinions 
of those enlightened Spaniards should be respected who, 
in reference to their own country, have- come to the same 
conclusion. Napoleon I. often remarked that he was the 
creature of circumstances ; that he could seldom do what 



454 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

he wished to do, but was compelled to modify his policy 
in accordance with those events which ever exert an al- 
most omnipotent control. Even upon the supposition that 
it were right for the Cortes in Madrid, numbering about 
three hundred men, to force upon Spain, by means of the 
army, a republic which the people did not desire, it is very 
doubtful whether the Cortes could possibly have done this. 
Civil war would have been the inevitable consequence of 
the attempt. Spain has a population of over fifteen mil- 
lions. Of these, according to the most accurate statistics 
which can be obtained, there are not over five hundred 
thousand of all the varied shades of democracy in favor of 
a republic. Could these five hundred thousand, much di- 
vided among themselves, force fifteen millions to accept a 
government to which they were opposed ? 

According to the last census, the population of the 
Spanish peninsula, including the Belearic Islands and the 
Canaries, was 15,658,586. Of these, only 8,124,410 could 
read and write. If there be a large majority of intelligent 
and virtuous people in a country in favor of a republic, 
such a form of government can be maintained, even with 
quite a considerable minority ignorant and degraded. But 
how is it possible that a republic can be established, found- 
ed necessarily upon universal suffrage^ when the majority 
of the people are not only ignorant and debased, but also 
opposed to republican institutions. One is reminded of 
General Prim's quaint remark, that " Eepublicans are es- 
sential to a republic." 

A constitution clearly defining and limiting the legisla- 
tive, judicial, and executive powers of the Government, 
containing within itself provisions for modifications and re- 
forms^ thus avoiding the necessity of a resort to the horrors of 



THE KEVOLUTIOX. 455 

revolution ; a monarch of high character and hbcral princi- 
ples elected for life ; a Senate, consisting of a definite num- 
ber of men, appointed by the crown for life from those who, 
by their abilities and services, have conferred honor upon 
their country ; a House of Eepresentatives, chosen by uni- 
versal suffrage, without whose concurrence no law can be 
passed ; freedom of worship ; freedom of speech and of the 
press, restrained by the law if libellous ; equal rights be- 
fore the law for every man : such is the constitution which 
regenerated France has adopted, and under which it has 
risen, during the past twenty years, to a position of pros- 
perity, power, and happiness such as the nation never en- 
joyed before. In many respects this constitution is very 
decidedly in advance of the British Constitution in the line 
of popular rights. 

Spain has made this constitution the basis of its new 
organization. It is an immense advance from the old re- 
gime of absolutism. It is as great an advance as can prob- 
ably now be made. It is an advance in the right direction. 
"A constitution," said Napoleon I., "is the work of time. 
We can not leave too large scope for its emendations." 

The French Constitution was adopted by the people of 
France by seven million four hundred and thirty-nine 
thousand two hundred and sixteen affirmative votes. 
There were but six hundred and forty thousand seven 
hundred and thirty-seven in the negative. 

Our Spanish brethren, in the tremendous struggle in 
which they have engaged in behalf of popular rights, have 
encountered obstacles apparently insuperable. There is no 
form of government which can be adopted which will not 
be met by fierce opposition. The Eepublicans will de- 
nounce a monarchy. The Monarchists will assail a repub- 



456 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

lie. Should the fanatie majority imbue the monarchy with 
the despotic spirit of the old regime, the cities will be agi- 
tated with conspiracies and insurrections. Should the spirit 
of reform prevail, demolishing old abuses, confiscating the 
enormous property of the Church, and granting freedom 
of conscience, which will give rise to innumerable infidel 
clubs and infidel journals, the priests will brandish daggers 
in the pulpits as they rouse the fanatic masses with the cry 
of "Death to the enemies of the Church." 

The Provisional Government, in its calm address to the 
electors, says : " The unexpected vehemence with which 
certain ideas have been proclaimed, obliges the Government 
to reiterate energetically its own ; so that it may not, by 
any possibility, be imagined that they have faltered in their 
convictions. The Provisional Government believes the fu- 
ture of liberal institutions will be more securely guaranteed 
by the solemn and successful establishment of the monar- 
chical principle than if submitted to the dangerous essay of 
a new form of government, without historical precedents 
in Spain, and without examples in Europe worthy of imi- 
tation. 

" They desire sincerely that the representatives of the 
nation may raise a throne, surrounded with the indispensa- 
ble prestige, and invested with its natural prerogatives, so 
that rivalry being impossible, it may facilitate order, and be 
the permanent and solid basis of our liberties." 

A correspondent of the Neio York Herald^ writing from 
Cadiz under date of May 26th, 1869, says: 

"A conspiracy has been discovered among the artillery 
officers which had for its object the proclaiming of Isabella. 
This arm of the military power never gave its hearty ad- 
hesion to the September revolution. It simply bowed to 



THE REVOLUTION. 457 

tlie blast which swept the Bourbon throne from the Pe- 
ninsula. The artillery is officered by the scions of the so- 
called best families, is very aristocratic, and scorns republi- 
canism. Dissatisfaction has existed in the army since Prim 
was appointed secretary of war. It has increased by his 
gross favoritism, and the bungling way he carries on busi- 
ness. 

" The navy is not a whit more reliable than the artillery. 
Unaccustomed on shipboard to the sninual ^ronunciamientos, 
which have made Spain a by-word throughout the world, 
it has no sympathy with innovations, and I verily believe 
that to-morrow it would shout Viva la Heina, if there was 
a fair prospect of its being indorsed by the troops. 

" The naval officers have never removed the crown from 
their caps and uniforms. The artillery did not. They 
have no sympathy with any kind of government but the 
monarchical. The day before yesterday Serrano and Prim 
stated in the Cortes that the reorganization of the volun- 
teers was necessary to combat the enemies of the revolu- 
tionists." 

In the following terms the writer above quoted describes 
a visit to one of the leading revolutionists : 

" I paid a visit to Salvochea lately. He is unquestion- 
ably the most popular man in this city and province — in 
all Andalusia — and will make his mark before many years. 
After many greetings, I asked him : 

" ' Do 3^ou think Isabella has many friends in the army?' 
" ' I think so,' he replied, ' but I don't know nor care.' 
" ' Who is the favorite of the army for king ?' 
" Smiling sarcastically, he answered, ' Every officer has 
his favorite. The old ones favor the queen or her son. The 
young ones are for the person who will promote them.' 

20 



-158 EOMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

'"Is there no general favorite — one who is more popu- 
lar than the others ?' 

" ' No!' he replied ; * not one of the aspirants has a sin- 
cere friend in the army, unless it be among the superannu- 
ated ones, who are indebted to Isabella for more than they 
have deserved. But they are what you call in America 
old fogies.' 

" ' Has not the Duke of Montpensier a large party in 
the army?' 

" ' He may have,' was the reply, ' but I don't think so. 
He will never be King of Spain ; and, I am sure, never 
President of the Spanish Eepublic' 

" ' Would you not favor a king with a liberal constitu- 
tion like Belgium or England ?' 

"'No, sir;' he rejoined. 'Kings .have had their day. 
They were an evil in the best of times, but a curse in an 
age of railroads and telegraphs. A republic is the only 
hope of Spain. But there will be blows given and received 
before its representative sits in Madrid !' 

" ' What do you think of the strong speeches against 
the Catholic faith lately delivered in the Cortes ?' 

" ' I don't admire any kind of religion,' he replied. ' But 
I doubt the utility of the late expositions on theology. 
There is no use of losing time with such stuff and non- 
sense.' 

"A few words of farewell, and we parted; he to en- 
deavor to have the gallant militia of Cadiz armed with the 
best breech-loaders, and your correspondent to his writing- 
table. Salvochea is a thin, lean, nervous young man, who 
will make his mark or lose his head before many years. 
He looks the conspirator from top to toe, from head to foot. 
But whether he is laboring for the benefit and glory of him- 



THE REVOLUTION. 459 

self or for Spain, is involved in obscurity. But tlie Span- 
ish politician is the most selfish of animals, and has no love 
of country like other people. His native village and prov- 
ince are his country. Out of them he is abroad." 

On the 17th of June, 1869, Marshal Serrano was installed 
Kegent of Spain. The ceremony took place at Madrid in 
the presence of a large and brilliant assemblage. After 
the administration of a very solemn oath to obey the con- 
stitution, which had recently been formed, the regent, in a 
very brief address to the Deputies, said : 

" With the creation of the constitutional power which 
you have deigned to confide to me, and which I gratefully 
accept, a new period of the revolution of September com- 
mences. We have raised the stone which weighed upon 
Spain, and we have afterwards constituted her under the 
monarchical form, traditional with our people, but siyround- 
ed with democratic institutions. The hour has now arrived 
to enroll and consolidate the conquests realized, so that the 
monarch whom the Cortes may hereafter elect may com- 
mence his reign prosperously and happily for the country." 

The true patriots in Spain demand our sympathies in 
the tremendous struggle through which they are passing. 
If they can abolish all exclusive privileges, and establish a 
throne upon the basis of equal rights for all men, and thus 
lead on in the path of ever-increasing liberty, protected by 
law from the horrors of bloody insurrections and revolu- 
tions, Heaven may rejoice, and earth be glad. A long dark 
night of sorrow has been theirs. The morning has dawned, 
but it has dawned luridly through storm-clouds still gather- 
ing in the sky. May Grod guide and bless that agitated 
portion of the universal brotherhood, and from these scenes 
of confusion evolve peace, prosperity, and happiness. 



460 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

It is the misfortune of Spain, debased by ages of oppres- 
sion, that she can not, at a single stride, advance from abso- 
lutism to a well-ordered republic. But she has entered the 
path. And every friend of human liberty and happiness 
must pray that she may attain the end of popular liberty 
and stable law by progressive constitutional reforms, and 
no longer by the horrors of civil war and the shedding of 
fraternal blood. The saddest of all earthly studies is the 
study of history. The most heartrending of all tragedies 
is the tragedy of the life, thus far, of the human race. In 
view of these scenes of woe extending through lingeriDg 
centuries, one can scarce refrain from exclaiming, with 
weeping eyes, "How long, Lord, how long!" 



Sinc^ writing the above, we have advices from Madrid 
up to the latter part of July, 1869. The intelligence is 
discouraging and gloomy in the extreme. The friends of 
reform are greatly divided among themselves, and find it 
very difficult to unite in any co-operative action. It is 
perhaps fortunate for them that their opponents are equally 
discordant in council. Though the " reactionists," as thej 
are called, are a unit in their hatred of the revolution, and 
in their desire to reinstate the despotic throne of the Bour- 
bons, still they are comprised in three very distinct and an- 
tagonistic parties. 

The first, or IsabeUinos, clamor for the restoration of their 
legitimate sovereign, Isabella II. The queen, through secret 
agents, supported by large portions of the clergy, and hav- 
ing immense sums of money at her disposal, is energetically 
co-operating with this party. 

The second, or AJ/onistas, urge the claims of Alfonso, 



THE KEVOLUTION. 461 

« 

Prince of the Asturias, the son of Isabella. It is said that 
his supporters are numerous, not only among the digni- 
taries of the realm and the nobles in Madrid, but that 
many influential members of the Cortes are in favor of 
his claims. 

The third, or Carlists, support Don Carlos. He is the 
representative of the Carlos, brother of Ferdinand, who, 
through so many years of blood and misery, contested the 
throne with Isabella. Different accounts are given of the 
precise relationship of this young man to the former Don 
Carlos. He claims however to be his heir, and by the 
Carlist party is recognized as such. His adherents are 
generally the ultra Church party, and others of the most 
uncompromising advocates of absolute power. 

While the Legitimists are thus divided, there is equal 
want of union in the ranks of the Progressionists^ or Liberal 
party. At the present moment it is divided essentially as 
follows, though very important changes may take place at 
alMiost any moment. Perhaps first in- influence is the 
party of the Duke of Montpensier, seeking to reconcile 
Europe by paying some apparent respect to legitimacy in 
placing a Bourbon on the throne, but selecting a man of 
liberal political principles. 

Secondly come those decided monarchists who would 
utterly reject the Bourbons, but would transfer the sceptre 
to some successful Spanish general. But there is no one 
chieftain prominent enough to gain the general vote. As 
Salvochea says, " Every officer has his favorite." 

Thirdly, there is the Kepublican party, greatly divided 
into bitterly discordant factions, of moderate and radical 
Eepublicans and ultra Democrats. When, in addition to 
such irreconcilable antng^onism amon^]: the most enlightened 



462 ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. 

men, wlio should be tlie leaders of the nation, we reflect 
that the millions of the populace, debased by ages of mis- 
rule, are in the lowest state of ignorance, the dupes of 
superstition, and quite under the control of the most cor- 
rupt priesthood in Europe, it would seem that there could 
be but little hope for Spain. Park indeed is the cloud 
which now hangs over that benighted land. God alone 
can span this cloud with the bow of promise. 



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Du Chaillu's Gorilla Country. Stories of the Gorilla 
Country. Narrated for Young People. By Paul B. Du Chaillu, 
Author of " Discoveries in Equatorial Africa," " Wild Life under 
the Equator," &c. Illustrated. i2mo, Cloth, $1 75. 

Laboulaye's Fairy Book. Fairy Tales of all Nations. 
By Edouard Laboulaye, Member of the Institute of France. 
Translated by Mary L. Booth. Elegantly Illustrated. i2mo. 
Cloth, $2 00. 

Mace's Fairy Tales. Home Fairy Tales (Conies du 
Petit Chateau). By Jean Mace, Editor of the Magasin d' Educa- 
tion ; Author of " The Story of a Mouthful of Bread," &c. Translated 
by Mary L. Booth. With Engravings. i2mo, Cloth, Beveled 
Edges, $1 75. 

Miss Mulock's Fairy Book. The best Popular Fairy 
Stories selected and rendered anew. Engravings. i6mo, Cloth, 
$1 so- 
Fairy Book Illustrated. Containing Twelve New Sto- 
ries, expressly Translated for this Work. With 81 fine Engravings 
by Adams. i6mo. Cloth, $1 50. 

Lyman Abbott's Life of Christ. The Life of Jesus 
Christ. Founded on the Four Gospels, and Illustrated by Refer- 
ences to the Manners, Customs, Religious Beliefs, and Political In- 
stitutions of His Times. By Lyman Abbott. With Designs by 
DoRE, De Laroche, Foster, Dalziel, Fenn, and others. Crown 
8vo, Cloth, Beveled Edges, $3 50. 



Valuable and Interesting Books. 



Abbott's Franconia Stories. Numerous Illustrations. 
Complete in lo vols., i6mo, Cloth, 90 cents each. The volumes 
may be obtained separately ; or, complete in neat case, ^9 00 : 



Malleville. 
Mary Bell. 
Ellen Linn. 
Wallace. 
Beechnut, 



Stuyvesant, 

Agnes. 

Mary Erskine. 

Rodolphus. 

Caroline. 



Abbott's Little Learner Series. Harper's Picture- 
Books for the Nursery. Beautifully Illustrated. In 5 vols,, 90 cents 
each. The volumes complete in themselves, and sold separately; 
or the Set complete, in case, for ^4 50 : 



Learning to Talk. 
Learning to Think. 
Learning to Read. 



Learning about Common Things. 
Learning about Right and Wrong, 



Abbott's Marco Paul's Voyages and Travels in the 
Pursuit of Knowledge. Beautifully Illustrated. Complete in 6 vols., 
i6mo. Cloth, 90 cents each. The Volumes may be obtained sepa- 
rately ; or complete, in neat case, for ^5 40 : 



In New York. 

On the Erie Canal. 

In the Forests of Maine. 



In Vermont. 

In Boston. 

At the Springfield Armory. 



Abbott's Stories of Rainbow and Lucky. Beautifully 
Illustrated. 5 vols., i6mo. Cloth, 90 cents per vol. The volumes 
may be obtained separately ; or complete, in neat case, for $4 50 : 



Hardie. 

Rainbow's Journey. 
Selling Lucky. 



Up the River. 
The Three Pines. 



Abbotts' Illustrated Histories. Illustrated with numer- 
ous Engravings. i6mo, Cloth, $1 20 per vol. The volumes may 
be obtained separately ; or the Set complete, in box, for ^33 60 : 

Richard III. 

Mary Queen of Scots. 

Queen Elizabeth. 



Cyrus the Great. 

Darius the Great, 

Xerxes. 

Alexander the Great. 

Romulus. 

Hannibal. 

Pyrrhus. 

Julius Csesar. 

Cleopatra. 

Nero. 

Alfred the Great. 

William the Conqueror. 

Richard I. 

Richard II. 



Charles I. 
Charles II. 
Josephine. 
Maria Antoinette. 
Madame Roland. 
Henry IV. 
Margaret of Anjou. 
Peter the Great. 
Genghis Khan, 
King Philip. 
Hernando Cortez. 



Abbott's Young Christian Series. Very greatly Im- 
proved and Enlarged. Numerous Engravings. The volumes sold 
separately. Complete in 4 vols., i2mo. Cloth, $1 75 each : 

The Young Christian. 1 The Way to do Good. 

The Corner-Stone. | Hoaryhead and M'Donner. 

Aikin's Evenings at Home ; or, The Juvenile Budget 
Opened. By Dr. Aikin and Mrs. Barbauld. With 34 Engravings 
by Adams. i2mo, Cloth, $\ 50. 



Valuable and Interesting Books. 



A Child's History of England. By Charles Dickens. 
2 vols., i6mo, Cloth, $2 00. 

A Child's History of the United States. By John Bon- 
ner. 3 vols,, i6mo, Cloth, $3 75. 

A Child's History of Rome. By John Bonner. With 
Illustrations. 2 vols,, i6mo. Cloth, $2 50. 

A Child's History of Greece. By John Bonner. With 
Illustrations. 2 vols,, i6mo, Cloth, $2 50. 

Edgar's Boyhood of Great Men. With Illustrations. 
i6mo, Cloth, %i 20, 

Edgar's Footprints of Famous Men. With Illustra- 
tions. i6mo, Cloth, $1 20. 

Edgar's History for Boys ; or, Annals of the Nations 
of Modern Eiyrope. Illustrations. i6mo, Cloth, %\ 20. 

Edgar's Sea-Kings and Naval Heroes. A Book for 
Boys. Illustrated, i6mo. Cloth, $\ 20. 

Edgar's W^ars of the Roses. Illustrations. i6mo, 
Cloth, $1 20. 

Nineteen Beautiful Years ; or, Sketches of a Girl's 
Life. Written by her Sister. With an Introduction by Rev, R, S. 
Foster, D.D. i6mo, Cloth, $1 00, 

Miss Mulock's Our Year. A Child's Book in Prose 
and Verse. Illustrated by Clarence Dobell. i6mo. Cloth, Gilt 
Edges, $\ GO. 

Harper's Boys' and Girls' Library. 32 Volumes. En- 
gravings. i8mo, Cloth. Sold separately at 75 cents a volume : 



Lives of the Apostles and Early Mar- 

tjTS. 

The Swiss Family Robinson. 2 vols. 

Sunday Evenings. Comprising Scrip- 
ture Stories. 3 vols. 

Mrs. Hofland's Son of a Genius. 

Thatcher's Indian Traits. 2 vols. 

Thatcher's Tales of the American 
Revolution. 

Miss Eliza Robins's Tales from Amer- 
ican Historv. 3 vols. 

Mrs. Hofland's Young Crusoe ; or, 
The Shipwrecked Boy. 

Perils of the Sea. 

Lives of Distinguished Females. 

Mrs. Phelps's Caroline Westerley. 

Mrs. Hughs's Ornaments Discovered. 



The Clergyman's Orphan ; the Infidel 
Reclaimed. 

Uncle Philip's Natural History. 

Uncle Philip's Evidences of Chris- 
tianity. 

Uncle Philip's History of Virginia. 

Uncle Philip's American Forest. 

Uncle Philip's History of New York, 
2 vols. 

Uncle Philip's Whale Fishery and the 
Polar Seas. 2 vols. 

Uncle Philip's History of the Lost 
Colonies of Greenland. 

Uncle Philip's History of Massachu- 
setts. 2 vols. 

Uncle Philip's History of New Hamp- 
shire. 2 vols. 



Valuable and Interesting Books. 



Harper's Fireside Library : expressly adapted to the 
Domestic Circle, Sunday-Schools, &c. Cloth, 75 cents each : 



Alden's Alice Gordon. 
Alden's Lawyer's Daughter. 
Alden's Young Schoolmistress. 
Burdett's Arthur Martin. 
The Dying Robin. 



Ellen Herbert ; or, Family Changes. 
Mayhew's Good Genius that turned 
every thing into Gold. 
William the Cottager. 
Mayhew's Magic of Kindness. 



Harper's Story Books. Narratives, Biographies, and 
Tales for the Young. By Jacob Abbott. With more than 1000 
beautiful Engravings. 

"Harper's Story Books" can be obtained complete in Twelve Volumes, 
each one containing Three Stories, at the price of ^21 00; or in Thirty-six Thin 
Volumes, each containing One Story, at the price of ^32 40. The volumes sold 
separately. 
Volume I. — Bruno ; Willie and the Mortgage ; The Strait Gate. 

" II.— The Little Louvre; Prank; Emma. 

" III. — Virginia; Timboo and Joliba ; Timboo and Fanny. 

" IV.— The Harper Estabhshment ; Franklin ; The Studio. 

" v.— The Story of Ancient History; The Story of English History; The 
Story of American History. 

" VI.— John True ; Elfred ; The Museum. 

" VII.— The Engineer; Rambles among the Alps ; The Three Gold Dollars. 

"VIIL— The Gibraltar Gallery; The Alcove ; Dialogues. 

" IX.— The Great Elm; Aunt Margaret; Vernon. 

" X. — Carl and Jocko ; Lapstone ; Orkney the Peacemaker. 

" XI. — Judge Justin ; Minigo ; Jasper. 

" XII.— Congo; Viola; Little Paul. 

Some of the Story Books are written particularly for Girls, and some for Boys ; 
and the different volumes are adapted to various ages, so that the Series forms 
a complete Library of Story Books for Children of the Family and the Sunday- 
School. 

Children's Picture - Books. Square 4to, about 300 
pages each, beautifully printed on Tinted Paper, with many Illustra- 
tions by Weir, Steinle, Overbeck, Veit, Schnorr, Harvey, &c., 
bound in Cloth, Gilt, $1 50 a volume ; or the Series complete, in neat 
case, $7 50 : 



The Children's Bible Picture-Book. 
The Children's Picture Fable-Book. 
The Children's Picture-Book of Quad- 
rupeds, and other Mammaha. 



The Children's Picture-Book of the 
Sagacity of Animals. 

The Children's Picture - Book of 
Birds. 



Mayhew's Boyhood of Martin Luther ; or. The Suffer- 
ings of the Little Beggar-Boy who afterward became the Great Ger- 
man Reformer. Beautifully Illustrated. i6mo. Cloth, ^i 25. 

Mayhew's Peasant-Boy Philosopher. The Story of the 
Peasant-Boy Philosopher ; or, " A Child Gathering Pebbles on the 
Sea-Shore." (Founded on the Early Life of Ferguson, the Shepherd- 
Boy Astronomer, and intended to show how a Poor Lad became ac- 
quainted with the Principles of Natural Science.) Illustrations. 
i6mo. Cloth, $ I 25. 

Mayhew's Wonders of Science ; or, Young Humphrey 
Davy (the Cornish Apothecary's Boy, who taught himself Natural 
Philosophy, and eventually became President of the Royal Society). 
The Life of a Wonderful Boy written for Boys. Illustrations. i6mo, 
Cloth, ^i 25. 



Valuable and hiterestiiig Books. 



Mayhew's Young Benjamin Franklin ; or, The Right 
Road through Lite. A Story to show how Young Benjamin Learned 
the Principles which Raised him from a Printer's Boy to the First 
Embassador of the American Republic. A Boy's Book on a Boy's 
own Subject. With Illustrations by John Gilbert. i6mo, Cloth, 
^i 25. 

Mr. Wind and Madam Rain. By Paul de Musset. 
Translated by Emily Makepeace. Illustrated by Charles Ben- 
NE'iT. Square 4to, Cloth, 75 cents. 

Mrs. Mortimer's Reading without Tears ; or, A Pleas- 
ant Mode of Learning to*Read. Beautifully Illustrated. Small 4to, 
Cloth, 75 cents. 

Mrs. Mortimer's Reading without Tears, Part II. 
Beautifully Illustrated. Small 4to, Cloth, $1 25. 

Mrs. Mortimer's Lines Left Out ; or, Some of the His- 
tories left out in "Line upon Line." The First Part relates Events 
in the Times of the Patriarchs and the Judges. With Illustrations. 
i6mo. Cloth, 75 cents. 

Mrs. Mortimer's More abou,t Jesus. AVith Illustrations 
and a Map. i6mo. Cloth, 75 cents. 

Mrs. Mortimer's Streaks of Light \ or, Fifty-two Facts 
from the Bible for Fifty- two Sundays of the Year. Illustrations. 
i6mo, Cloth, Gilt, 75 cents. 

Harry's Ladder to Learning. With 250 Illustrations. 
Square 4to, Cloth, 75 cents. 

Harry's Summer in Ashcroft. Illustrations. Square 
4to, Cloth, 75 cents. 

Kingston's Fred Markham in Russia ; or, The Boy 
Travellers in the Land of the Czar. By W. H, G. Kingston. Pro- 
fusely and elegantly Illustrated. Small 4to, Cloth, Gilt, 75 cents. 

Reid's Odd People. Being a Popular Description of 
Singular Races of Men. By Captain Mayne Reid. With Illustra- 
tions. i6mo, Cloth, 75 cents. 

The Adventures of Reuben Davidger, Seventeen Years 
and Four Months Captive among the Dyaks of Borneo. By James 
Greenwood. With Engravings. 8vo,'Cloth, $1 75. 

Wild Sports of the World : A Book of Natural History 
and Adventure. By James Greenwood. With Woodcuts from 
Designs by Harden Melville and William Harvey, Portraits 
of Celebrated Hunters from Original Photographs. 8vo. 



Valuable and Interesting Books. 



Self-Made Men. By Charles C. B. Seymour. Many 
Portraits. i2mo, 588 pages, Cloth, ^i 75. 

Smiles's Self-Help : with Illustrations of Character and 
Conduct. By Samuel Smiles. i2mo, Cloth, ^i 25. 

Thackeray's Rose and the Ring ; or, The History of 
Prince Giglio and Prince Bulbo. A Fireside Pantomime for Great 
and Small Children. By Mr. M. A. Titmarsh. Numerous Illus- 
trations. Small 4to, Cloth, ^i 00. 

Wood's Homes without Hands : Being a Description 
of the Habitations of Animals, classed according to their Principle 
of Construction. By J. G. Wood, M.A., F.L.S., Author of "Illus- 
trated Natural History." With about 140 Illustrations, engraved on 
Wood by G. Pearson, from Original Designs made by F. W. Keyl 
and E. A. Smith, under the Author's Superintendence. 8vo, Cloth, 
Beveled, ^4 50. 

Folks and Fairies. Stories for Little Children. By 
Lucy Randall Comfort. Illustrated. Square 4to, Cloth, ^i 00. 

A French Country Family. Translated by the Author 
of " John Halifax" from the French of Madame De Witt, nee Gui 
ZOT. Illustrations. i2mo. Cloth, ^i 50. 

Hooker's Child's Book of Nature. The Child's Book 
of Nature, for the Use of Families and Schools : intended to aid 
Mothers and Teachers in Training Children in the Observation of 
Nature. In Three Parts. Part I. Plants. Part II. Animals. 
Part III. Air, Water, Heat, Light, &c. By Worthington Hooker, 
M.D. Engravings. The Three Parts complete in One Volume, 
Small 4to, Cloth, $2 00 ; or separately, 90 cents each. 

Mace's History of a Mouthful of Bread, and its Effect 
on the Organization of Men and Animals. i2mo. Cloth, %\ 75. 

Mace's Servants of the Stomach. The Servants of the 
Stomach. By Jean Mace, Author of " The History of a Mouthful 
of Bread," " Home Fairy Tales," &c., &c. Reprmted from the Lon- 
don Edition, Revised and Corrected. i2mo. Cloth, ^i 75. 

Miss Warner's Three Little Spades. Illustrations. 
l6mo, Cloth, ^i 00. 

Harper's Magazine, Weekly, and Bazar. 

TERMS :— Harper's Magazine, One Year . . I4 00. 

Harper's Weekly, One Year . . I4 00. 

Harper's Bazar, One Year . . %\ 00. 

Harper's Magazine, Harper's Weekly, and Harper's Bazar, 

to one address, for one year, |io 00; or any two for I7 00. 

Address HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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